Division 

Section 


D U740 
,P91 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016  with  funding  from 
Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


https://archive.org/details/twoyearsamongnew00prat_1 


TWO  NEW  GUINEA  DANDIES. 

They  are  natives  of  Dinawa.  Notice  their  tight-laced  waists  and  the  nose  ornaments  (chimani)  of 

polished  shell. 


mu  rN 

TWO  YEARS 
AMONG  NEW  GUINEA 
CANNIBALS 

A Naturalist’s  Sojourn  among  the  Aborigines 
of  Unexplored  New  Guinea 


By 

A.  E.  PRATT 

Gill  Memorialist,  Royal  Geographical  Society,  1891 
Author  of  “To  the  Snows  of  Tibet  through  China,”  etc. 


With  Notes  and  Observations  by  his  Son 

HENRY  PRATT 

And  Appendices  on  the  Scientific  Results  of  the  Expedition 


With  5 If,  Illustrations  and  a Map 


PHILADELPHIA 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

LONDON:  SEELEY  & CO.  Ltd. 

1906 


Printed  by  Ballantyne,  Hanson  &•  Co. 
At  the  Ballantyne  Press 


TO 

MY  WIFE 

THE  COMPANION,  PRESENT  OR  ABSENT 
OF  MY  MANY  WANDERINGS 


PREFACE 


This  record  of  two  years’  scientific  work  in  the  only 
country  of  the  globe  that  has  still  escaped  exploration 
purposely  avoids  the  dry  detail  of  a Natural  History 
Report,  such  as  might  properly  be  submitted  to  a learned 
society,  and  is  intended  rather  to  set  forth  to  the 
general  reader  the  vicissitudes  of  the  traveller’s  daily 
life  in  unknown  New  Guinea,  or  Papua  as  I prefer  to 
call  it.  Every  hour  brought  a new  interest,  and  it 
was  with  the  intention  of  trying  to  communicate 
some  impression  of  that  wonderful  land  in  which  we 
sojourned,  that  the  present  account  has  been  under- 
taken. If  the  result  is  disappointing  to  the  reader, 
the  fault  must  lie  with  the  writer  and  not  with  Papua. 

During  my  brief  residences  in  the  known  parts  of 
New  Guinea,  I received  much  kind  assistance  and 
furtherance  in  my  marches  into  the  wilds  from 
officials,  missionaries,  and  settlers,  and  I would  here 
especially  acknowledge  my  indebtedness  to  his 
Excellency  the  Lieutenant-Governor,  Mr.  G.  Ruthven 
Le  Hunte,  Mr.  A.  Musgrave,  C.B.,  Captain  Barton, 
the  Hon.  D.  Ballantine,  Mr.  Robert  Hislop,  and 
Mr.  James  Wood;  His  Grace  Archbishop  Navarre, 
Coadjutor  Bishop  de  Boismenu,  both  of  the  Sacred 

7 


PREFACE 


Heart  Mission  ; Dr.  Laws  and  the  Rev.  H.  Dauncey 
of  the  London  Missionary  Society. 

The  Dutch  officials  to  whom  I am  under  deep 
obligations  are  Mr.  Kroesen,  the  Resident  of  Merauke, 
Mr.  M.  C.  Schadee,  the  Controller,  and  also  the 
captain  of  the  gunboat  Neas. 

For  permission  to  reprint  the  section  on  the 
Lakatois  and  several  other  passages  I am  indebted 
to  the  Wide  World  Magazine,  and  the  chapter  on 
“ British  Trade  Prospects  in  New  Guinea  ” is  given 
by  consent  of  the  British  Trade  Journal. 

My  particular  acknowledgments  are  due  to  Messrs. 
G.  H.  Kendrick,  Mr.  G.  T.  Bethune  Baker,  F.L.S., 
and  Miss  Wilmott,  without  whose  help  the  expedition 
could  not  have  been  undertaken,  and  I must  also 
mention  Mr.  S.  H.  Soper,  F.R.G.S.,  another  friend 
whose  interest  and  assistance  was  of  the  greatest  value 
to  me. 

A.  E.  P. 


8 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

BREAKING  THE  GROUND 

PAGE 

The  Author’s  many  Journeys — New  Guinea  more  Interesting  than 
all — The  Second  Largest  Island  in  the  World,  and  the  last  to 
Guard  its  Secrets  from  Man — Its  Vast  Possibilities  to  the 
Trader  and  the  Man  of  Science — Great  Riches  in  Birds  and  In- 
sects— 770  known  Species  of  Birds — The  People — Their  Many 
Dialects — A Geographical  Reason  for  this — Toilsome  Travel — 
Razor-like  Ridges  in  Endless  Succession  — The  Author’s 
Camps  — Journeys  Outlined  — In  Unexplored  Country — 
Gorgeous  Scenery — Variations  of  Temperature — The  Chief 
Bugbear,  Transport 17 


CHAPTER  II 

DISAPPOINTMENTS  IN  DUTCH  NEW  GUINEA 

Dutch  New  Guinea — The  Coast — Unsavoury  Mud-banks — Merauke 
— The  Dutch  Settlement  described — Its  Wonderful  Modernity 
— A Fierce  Tribe,  the  Tugeri,  now  described  for  the  first 
time— Their  Appearance  and  Habits — Their  Continual  Mur- 
derous Raids — The  Fearful  Bamboo  Knife — Scientific  Work 
here  impossible  owing  to  Danger  of  going  beyond  Settlement 
Boundaries — Outbreak  of  a Mysterious  Disease  at  Merauke — 

Its  Swift  Deadliness — The  Symptoms — Determine  to  leave 
Dutch  New  Guinea  and  prepare  for  a March  into  the  Un- 
explored Interior 3 7 


CHAPTER  III 

CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 

We  sail  to  Thursday  Island — A Rough  Voyage  in  a Cattle-boat — 
A Glimpse  of  Thursday  Island — The  Wonderful  Colour  of  its 
Waters— We  reach  Port  Moresby — Contrast  to  the  Scenery  of 
Dutch  New  Guinea — Magnificent  Mountains — Evidences  of 
Drought — Vegetation  burnt  up — The  British  Government 

9 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Post  of  Port  Moresby  described — A Good  Second  to  Hades 
or  Aden — The  Great  Sight  of  Port  Moresby — A Community 
of  Hereditary  Potters — The  Pottery  Trading  Fleet — The 
Strange  Vessels  called  Lakatois — Their  Structure — Native 
Orgies  before  the  Expedition  starts — A New  Guinea  Ballet 
on  Deck — Seclusion  of  Women  after  the  Young  Braves  depart 
with  the  Fleet — My  Inland  Expedition  fitted  out — Official 
Courtesy  — Details  of  Baggage  — Transport  procured  after 
Immense  Trouble 59 


CHAPTER  IV 

WE  STRIKE  INLAND 

We  start  Inland — Friendly  Natives  but  Hostile  Mosquitoes — Bioto 
Creek — Bioto — Guest  Houses — A Splendid  Game  Region — 

Daily  Migration  of  Flocks  of  Pigeons — Greedy  Coast  Natives 
— Carriers  Inadequate — A Double  Journey  in  Relays — We 
meet  the  Chief  Mavai,  a great  Papuan  Character — Mavai’s 
Way  of  Life  — His  Harem  — His  Western  Notions — ’His 
Trousers — His  Red  Coat — His  Severe  Discipline — As  we 
proceed,  Construction  of  Native  Houses  more  elaborate — On 
to  Ekeikei  and  Dinawa  — March  through  Wet  Vegetation — 
Tortured  by  Leeches  and  an  Abominable  Parasite,  the 
Scrub-Itch — A Gloomy  Forest — Magnificent  Orchids — Carriers 
stimulate  Laggard  Comrades  with  Nettles — The  Aculama 
River — I discover  a New  Fish  ...  . . . 8 1 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  FIRST  CAMP 

Journey  continued — A Glorious  Scarlet  Creeper — Dinawa — Site 
for  Camp  selected — Building  Camp — Native  Assistance — 
Organisation  for  Scientific  Work — Daily  Routine — Teaching 
the  Natives  how  to  Catch  and  Handle  Entomological  Speci- 
mens— Sudden  Affluence  leads  one  of  my  Native  Boys  to 
Desert — He  is  Caught  and  Reformed  — My  best  Native 
Assistant  and  his  Wife — Female  Influence  a great  Asset  with 
other  Women  — The  Day’s  Work  — Collecting  at  Night — 
Photography — A Dark  Room  in  the  Wilds — Native  Interest 

in  Developing 105 

IO 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  VI 

VICISSITUDES  AND  A DIGRESSION 

PAGE 

The  Drought  affects  our  Work — Butterflies  begin  to  Fail — Forest 
Fires — We  descend  to  the  St.  Joseph  River — A Temporary 
Camp  — A Wonderful  Native  Suspension  Bridge  — River 
Scenery — Native  Methods  of  Fishing — Dull  Weather  and 
Little  Success  in  Collecting — A Comic  Incident — A Native 
besieged  by  a Wild  Pig — War — Native  Hostility — A Chief 
threatens  to  Cook  and  Eat  our  Heads — Strict  Guard  kept  on 
Camp — The  Bird  of  Paradise — Papuan  Game  Laws — Natives’ 
Interest  in  Writing — Further  Stay  at  the  St.  Joseph  imprac- 
ticable— A Flood  destroys  our  Bridge — A Visit  to  a Native 
Village — Curious  Means  of  Ingress — Return  to  Dinawa — My 
Cingalese  Headman’s  Experiences  • — He  evades  Native 
Treachery — Sudden  Growth  of  New  Township  . . . .125 


CHAPTER  VII 

GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 

A’Beautiful  New  Orchid  discovered  and  described — Drought  con- 
tinues— Sufferings  of  the  Natives — I practise  as  a Physician 
— Queer  Native  Diagnosis  — Gaberio,  an  Intelligent  Native, 
goes  collecting  on  his  own  account  — How  we  kept  touch 
— The  Wireless  Telegraph  of  the  Wilds — We  determine  to 
take  our  Specimens  to  the  Coast — Methods  of  Preservation 
and  Packing — Gaberio  returns — He  tells  of  the  Murder  of 
one  of  his  Boys — Hardships  of  Camp  Life — Food  and  Ammuni- 
tion fail — We  try  Cockatoo  Soup — A Visit  from  a Fine  Hill 
Tribe,  the  Ibala — They  brighten  the  Last  Days  of  our  Stay — 
Gorgeous  Sunsets  at  Dinawa  — The  Ibala  People  return 
according  to  Contract  to  act  as  Carriers — We  depart — Trials 
of  the  March  to  the  Coast — A Mishap  at  Sea — Our  Fine 
Herbarium  ruined  with  Salt  Water — Port  Moresby  once  again  141 


CHAPTER  VIII 

INACTION  AND  AN  EXCURSION 

Period  of  Inaction  at  Port  Moresby — Christmas  in  New  Guinea — 
A Scratch  Dinner — A Christmas  Privilege  for  Cingalese  to 
obtain  Spirits — Curious  Effect  on  One  Individual — A Note- 
worthy Character — An  Excursion  to  Hula — A Fisher  Com- 
munity— A Piebald  People — Picturesque  Night  Fishing  by 
Flare  Light — Fishermen  often  Killed  by  Gare  Fish — Hula 
Houses  — Various  Traits  of  Native  Life — A Walk  round 

1 1 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


Hood’s  Bay — Traces  of  Initiatory  Rites  at  Kalo — The  Kalo 
Houses  described — On  to  Kerapuna — A Shooting  Expedition 
— We  lose  the  Trail — Class  Distinctions  at  Kerapuna — 
Return  to  Port  Moresby  by  Sea — A Perilous  Voyage  in  a 
Little  Canoe — Tragic  Death  of  Flood,  the  Naturalist  . .165 


CHAPTER  IX 

TOWARDS  THE  UNEXPLORED 

Beginning  of  Furthest  Journey  into  Unexplored  Interior — The 
Everlasting  Question  of  Carriers — Difficulties  and  Delays — 

Epa  again — Curious  Method  of  Water  Supply — Mavai  wel- 
comes us  back — He  provides  a Dubious  Treat — Ekeikei — The 
Building  of  a Permanent  Camp — An  Elaborate  Undertak- 
ing— House-building  on  a Large  Scale — Ingenious  Papuan 
Methods  of  Thatching — The  Chief  Kafulu  proves  Unneigh- 
bourly — He  does  not  fulfil  his  Engagements — Ow-bow’s  Em- 
bassy— My  Deputy  is  robbed — Precautions  in  Camp  against 
Attack — I go  down  to  Kafulu  and  deal  faithfully  with  him 
— He  relents,  and  restores  Ow-bow’s  Goods — An  Earthquake 
and  Hurricane  at  Ekeikei 183 


CHAPTER  X 

UPS  AND  DOWNS 

My  man  Sam  goes  to  the  Kebea  to  collect — We  go  to  the  Coast 
again  with  our  Specimens — A Dreadful  Night  in  Bioto  Creek 
— A Crocodile  River — A Tempestuous  Voyage  to  Thursday 
Island — Fever — Return  to  Port  Moresby — Adrift  for  Three 
Days  in  a Heavy  Sea — A German  Captain’s  Thrilling  Story  of 
the  Storm — We  return  to  Ekeikei — A New  Trouble — Epi- 
demic of  Measles  among  Native  Followers — Harry  goes  off 
alone  among  Cannibals — Adventurous  Journey  of  a Boy  of 
Sixteen — Description  of  Native  Village  on  a 1 5-inch-wide  Ridge  201 


CHAPTER  XI 

A BOY  OF  SIXTEEN  ALONE  WITH  CANNIBALS 

Further  into  the  Mountains — A Murder — The  Settlement  of  the 
Blood  Price — A Pig  for  a Life — Harry’s  Further  Adventures 
alone  among  Cannibals — Various  other  Murders — The  Village 
of  Amana — A Tree  House — The  Lunatic  at  Amana — Foula 

— A Pretty  Village 

I 2 


221 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  UNEXPLORED:  AMONG  PAPUAN  PEAKS 

PAGE 

Still  Higher  in  the  Owen  Stanley  Range — The  Road  to  Mafulu — 
Beauties  of  the  Forest — The  Hill  Step — Curious  Habit  of 
Walking  acquired  in  Abrupt  Ground — Cold  at  High  Altitudes 
— A New  Camp  built — Alpine  Signs  in  Insects  and  Flowers — 
Routine  Work — Food  runs  low  again — Native  Thieves — 
Followers  discontented — They  fear  the  Hostile  Mafulu  People 
— Daily  Threats  of  Desertion — Strict  Watch — My  Rule  for 
Night  Visitors — Compulsory  Carrying  of  Torches  and  Dis- 
arming— Weirdly  Picturesque  Night  Scenes — Further  Priva- 
tions— Bird  of  Paradise  Soup — Ugh  ! — Decide  to  depart — 
Natives  burn  down  Camp  to  ensure  our  going  . . . .241 


CHAPTER  XIII 

LAST  JOURNEY  TO  THE  COAST 

A Dangerous  Stream-Crossing — Babooni — Sunshine  once  more — 
Successful  Work — Poor  Fare— Messengers  to  Ekeikei — The 
Tree-Cabbage — Method  of  Cooking  Tree-Cabbage — A Great 
Curiosity — Spiders’  Webs  as  Fishing-Nets — Dancing  Festivals 
• — Back  to  the  Kebea — Our  Bean  Crop — A Papuan  Parliament 
— We  obtain  Credit — A Wife-Beater — My  only  Act  of  Perfidy — 

The  Journey  to  Ekeikei — Back  to  the  Land  of  Plenty — Last 
Visit  to  Epa — Mavai  unfriendly  — He  is  talked  over  and 
supplies  Carriers — Example  better  than  Precept — The  Coast 
again — An  Accident — The  Natives  drink  Sea-Water — Good- 
bye to  the  Mountaineers 259 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A FORTY-MILE  TRAMP  BY  THE  SHORE 

A Comfortless  Voyage — A Forty-Mile  Tramp  along  the  Coast — 
Wonders  of  the  Beach — Armies  of  Soldier-Crabs — A Crocodile 
River — A Dangerous  Canoe  Voyage — At  Port  Moresby — A 
Pathetic  Incident — Last  Days  of  our  Stay  in  New  Guinea  . 279 


CHAPTER  XV 

NATIVE  MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 

The  Papuan  at  Home — His  Good  Points — Physical  Characteristics 
— Ceremonial  Dress — Coast  and  Hill  Tribes — Differences — 
Local  Distribution  of  the  Rami  or  Petticoat — Its  Decrease 
in  Length  in  the  Mountains — Its  Disappearance  at  Epa — 

13 


CONTENTS 


PAOB 


Dandyism  — The  Priceless  Chimani  — The  Shell  Armlet — 
Household  Constitution — Rudimentary  Government — Court- 
ship and  Marriage — The  Price  of  a Wife — Position  of  Women 
— Six  Ways  of  Carrying  an  Infant — Meal  Times — Weapons — 
Clubs — Their  Manufacture  the  Monopoly  of  One  Tribe — Weird 
Tribal  Dances 289 


CHAPTER  XYI 

BURIAL,  WITCHCRAFT,  AND  OTHER  THEMES 

A Short-lived  Race — An  Aged  Man  a Curiosity — Burial  Customs — 

The  Chief  Mourner  painted  Black — Period  of  Mourning  brief 
except  for  the  Chief  Mourner — No  Belief  in  Natural  Death — 
Poison  always  Suspected — Religion  all  but  absent — Vague 
Belief  in  Magic — Fifi,  a Form  of  Divination — How  practised — 

Its  Utter  Childishness — No  Idea  of  Number — Forest  Warnings 
— “ Wada,”  another  Form  of  Sorcery  — Mavai’s  Hideous 
Magical  Compounds — A People  seemingly  without  History 
or  Legends — Pictures  understood — Fear  of  the  Stereoscope — 

The  “Bau-bau”  or  Social  Pipe — How  Made  and  Smoked — 
Incidents  of  Travel — The  Stinging  Trees — Ideas  of  Medicine 
— Sovereign  Remedies — Bleeding — How  practised — Hunting 
— The  Corral — A Strange  Delicacy — Story  of  Native  Trust  in 
Me — A Loan  of  Beads- — Children  and  their  Sports — Thirty 
Ways  of  Cat’s-Cradle 309 


CHAPTER  XYII 

A NOTE  ON  BRITISH  TRADEf  PROSPECTS  IN 
NEW  GUINEA 

Sandalwood  — The  Sea  Slug  — Copra  and  Cocoa-Nut — Coffee — 
Cocoa — Chillies — Rubber — Stock-Raising — Gold — Tobacco — 
Imports — German  Enterprise — Our  Lost  Coaling  Station  . 333 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

NOTES  ON  SOME  BIRDS  OF  NEW  GUINEA 

The  Birds  of  Paradise  — Remarkable  Species  observed — Native 
Names  — Play-Places  — Curious  Habits — The  Bower-Bird: 


Artist,  Architect,  and  Gardener 345 

APPENDICES 351 

14 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Two  New  Guinea  Dandies  ....  Frontispiece 

PAGE 

Lakatois  Preparing  to  Sail 21 

The  Bower-Bird 27 

Guarding  the  Workers 33 

Tugeri  Natives 41 

The  Native  Method  of  Tree-Climbing  . . . .47 

A Lakatoi  and  a House  on  Piles  . . . . .55 

Sam  and  his  Wife 63 

Hanuabada  Girls  Dancing 69 

Girls  Dancing  on  a Lakatoi 73 

Epa  Village 85 

Ekeikei  Natives 91 

The  Camp  at  Ekeikei 97 

Native  Collectors 

Hill  Natives  at  Dinawa Ic>9 

Doboi,  our  Native  Cook 

The  Native  Village  of  Dinawa 

Fishing  on  the  St.  Joseph  River 131 

A Rough  Bridge X37 

Native  Women  at  Dinawa 145 

The  Wireless  Telegraphy  of  New  Guinea  . . -149 

Natives  of  Enumaka ^ 5 

15 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Vegetation  at  Dinawa 

PAGE 

161 

A Piebald  People  .... 

169 

A House  at  Kalo  .... 

177 

The  Villages  of  Elevada  and  Hanuabada 

187 

New  Guinea  House  Building  . 

193 

The  Primeval  Forest 

197 

Polling  Lakatois  .... 

205 

Houses  at  Hanuabada 

209 

A Deserted  Village 

215 

Harry  Pratt  .... 

225 

Camp  in  the  Owen  Stanley  Range  . 

231 

Two  Views  of  a Native  Bridge 

237 

Camp  in  the  Owen  Stanley  Range  . 

245 

Unknown  Species  Discovered  by  the  Author 

251 

The  Author  and  some  Native  Collectors 

255 

A Spider’s  Web  Fishing-Net  . 

263 

Fishing  with  Spiders’  Web  Nets 

269 

A Weird  Tribal  Dance  . 

275 

A Sea  Coast  Scene  .... 

283 

Hanuabada  Women  Wearing  the  Rami 

293 

Buying  a Wife 

299 

New  Guinea  Weapons  and  Implements 

305 

Young  Natives  and  Women  Carriers 

313 

Smoking  the  Bau-Bau 

319 

A New  Guinea  Hunt 

327 

Hauling  up  a Log  .... 

337 

16 


CHAPTER  I 

BREAKING  THE  GROUND 

The  Author’s  many  Journeys — New  Guinea  more  interesting 
than  all — The  Second  Largest  Island  in  the  World,  and  the  last 
to  guard  its  Secrets  from  Man — Its  Vast  Possibilities  to  the 
Trader  and  the  Man  of  Science — Great  Riches  in  Birds  and 
Insects — 770  known  Species  of  Birds — The  People — Their 
many  Dialects — A Geographical  Reason  for  this — Toilsome 
Travel  — Razor-like  Ridges  in  Endless  Succession  — The 
Author’s  Camps — Journeys  Outlined — In  Unexplored  Country 
— Gorgeous  Scenery — Variations  of  Temperature — The  Chief 
Bugbear,  Transport. 


B 


TWO  YEARS  AMONG  NEW 
GUINEA  CANNIBALS 


CHAPTER  I 
BREAKING  THE  GROUND 

In  the  course  of  thirty  years  of  almost  continuous 
journeyings  in  both  hemispheres,  it  has  been  my 
fortune  to  stray  far  from  the  beaten  tracks  and  to 
know  something  of  the  spell  and  mystery  of  the 
earth’s  solitudes.  My  work  in  quest  of  additions 
to  the  great  natural  history  collections,  both  public 
and  private,  of  England,  and  to  a less  extent  of 
France,  h£s  led  me  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  the 
Amazons,  the  Republic  of  Colombia,  the  Yangtse 
gorges,  and  the  snows  of  Tibet ; but  it  is  safe  to 
say  that  none  of  these  has  aroused  my  interest  and 
curiosity  in  so  great  a degree  as  the  scene  of  my 
latest  and  my  next  expedition,  the  still  almost  un- 
explored Papua,  second  largest  of  the  world’s  islands, 
and  almost  the  last  to  guard  its  secrets  from  the 
geographer,  the  naturalist,  and  the  anthropologist. 

Fifty  years  ago,  schoolboys,  looking  at  their  map 
of  Africa,  blessed  the  Dark  Continent  for  an  easy 
place  to  learn.  A few  names  fringed  the  coast : 
inland  nearly  all  was  comprehended  under  the  cheerful 
word  “unexplored.”  Such  in  great  measure  is  the 

19 


BREAKING  THE  GROUND 


case  with  New  Guinea  to-day.  Its  300,000  square 
miles  of  territory,  held  by  Great  Britain,  Germany, 
and  the  Netherlands,  and  now  lying  fallow,  are 
destined  in  the  course  of  the  next  half-century  to 
enrich  the  worlds  of  commerce  and  of  science  to  a 
degree  that  may  to  some  extent  be  forecast  by  what 
is  already  known  of  very  restricted  areas.  What 
New  Guinea  may  become  to  the  trader  is  outlined 
later  in  the  present  volume,  merely,  be  it  noted,  from 
the  outside  observer’s  point  of  view,  but  this  of 
course  has  in  it  a large  measure  of  uncertainty, 
contingent  on  conditions  of 

“ Labour  and  the  changing  mart  and  all  the  framework 
of  the  land.” 

Be  this  as  it  may,  one  thing  remains  sure,  the 
extraordinary  value  of  Papua  to  the  man  of  science, 
particularly  to  the  entomologist  and  the  ornithologist. 
In  the  department  of  ornithology  alone,  we  already 
know  of  770  different  species  of  birds  inhabiting  the 
mainland  and  the  islands,  which  places  it  in  this  respect 
far  above  Australia,  which,  with  a superficial  area  nine 
times  greater,  possesses  less  than  500  species  in  all. 

The  ethnologist,  too,  has  in  Papua  a happy 
hunting  ground ; for  the  tribes  on  the  fringe  of 
exploration  present  wonderful  varieties  of  type,  and 
as  the  mountain  fastnesses  of  the  interior  are  gradually 
opened  up,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  rich  material 
for  the  propounding  of  new  problems  and  perhaps 
the  solution  of  old  ones  will  come  to  light.  Language 
is  curiously  diversified  : here  you  meet  a tribe  with 
a distinct  speech,  and  camping  near  them  for  a time 
you  learn  the  common  currency  of  their  tongue  ; a 

20 


LAKATOIS  PREPARING  TO  SAIL. 


BREAKING  THE  GROUND 


few  miles  further  on  appears  another  people,  perhaps 
not  greatly  differing  in  type,  but  with  another  language 
altogether.  Thus  at  Dinawa,  where  we  were  en- 
camped for  five  months  on  the  foot-hills  of  the 
Owen  Stanley  range,  the  native  phrase  for  “ Make 
up  the  fire  ” was  “ Aloba  di  ” ; while  at  Foula,  only 
eighteen  miles  away  as  the  crow  flies,  but  far  further 
on  foot,  the  phrase  ran  “ Aukida  pute.”  It  is  in 
the  statement  “ far  further  on  foot,”  of  course,  that 
the  main  reason  of  this  linguistic  variation  is  chiefly 
to  be  found ; for  travel  in  the  Papuan  highlands 
is  extraordinarily  toilsome,  owing  to  the  exceeding 
abruptness  of  the  configuration,  and  the  endless 
succession  of  almost  razor-like  ridges.  Thus  the 
tribes  are  confined  to  narrow  areas.  Long  rough 
ascents  and  descents  and  devious  windings  are  the 
portion  of  the  wayfarer  who  wishes  to  reach  some 
spot  that  may  even  be  visible  from  his  last  halting- 
place.  This  experience,  and  our  entire  dependence 
on  native  carriers  to  transport  our  heavy  baggage, 
with  the  various  contretemps  and  difficulties  besetting 
the  conduct  of  such  a caravan,  tempted  me  at  one 
time  to  call  this  book  “ Ups  and  Downs  in  Papua,” 
as  being  at  once  literally  and  metaphorically  true 
and  descriptive. 

Despite  the  difficulty  of  migration,  however,  it 
is  certain  that  had  our  mission  been  one  of  explora- 
tion pure  and  simple  we  could,  during  our  two  years’ 
sojourn,  have  traversed  a far  more  extensive  region 
than  we  did.  But  our  first  concern  was  the  examina- 
tion of  the  butterflies,  moths,  and  birds  of  the  Owen 
Stanley  range,  and  that  within  particular  and  some- 

23 


BREAKING  THE  GROUND 

what  restricted  areas,  so  that  our  work  necessitated 
encamping  sometimes  for  months  at  a time  at  one 
particular  spot,  in  order  that  the  collection  and  pre- 
servation of  our  specimens  might  be  carried  on 
under  the  most  advantageous  conditions  possible  in 
such  a wilderness.  To  this  end  we  built  two  perma- 
nent camps,  one  at  Dinawa,  and  the  other  at  Ekeikei, 
at  altitudes  of  3600  and  1500  feet  respectively.  From 
these  bases  we  made  short  expeditions  in  various 
directions,  and  established  temporary  camps  on  the 
St.  Joseph  River,  Mount  Kebea,  and  finally  at  Mafalu, 
our  highest  point  of  attainment,  6000  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  sea  among  the  fastnesses  of  the  Owen 
Stanley  range.  But  even  that  altitude  is  com- 
paratively insignificant  in  the  magnificent  highlands 
of  Papua.  The  higher  we  rose  it  was  only  to  catch 
sight  of  still  loftier  ranges  that  piled  peak  on  peak 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  The  only  one  of 
these  that  has  as  yet  been  trodden  by  the  white  man 
is  Mount  Victoria,  which  rises  to  a height  of  13,000 
feet.  This  was  made  the  objective  of  a special 
expedition  by  Sir  William  Macgregor,  who  recently 
crossed  British  New  Guinea,  a journey  which  took 
him  fifty-one  days  to  accomplish.  Sir  William  has 
also  explored  the  Fly  River  tentatively,  and  D’Albertis 
followed  its  course  for  600  or  700  miles  ; but  when 
these  achievements  are  mentioned,  one  has  exhausted 
nearly  all  the  serious  efforts  that  have  been  made 
in  Papuan  exploration.  Within  the  last  year  the 
Netherlands  officials  have  issued  a map  that  makes 
many  valuable  additions  to  our  knowledge  of  the 
topography  of  the  coast-line  of  their  territory. 

24 


BREAKING  THE  GROUND 

It  may  make  for  clearness  in  following  my  journeys 
if  the  reader  will  at  this  point  submit  for  a moment 
to  the  drudgery  of  a brief  examination  of  the  map, 
for  my  trail  exhibits  various  doublings  backwards  and 
forwards,  and  consequently  exposes  the  narrative  to  the 
risk  of  confusion,  unless  the  main  outline  of  the  itine- 
rary be  followed.  It  had  been  my  intention  to  work 
first  in  Dutch  New  Guinea,  but  various  accidents,  and 
the  hostility  of  a warlike  tribe,  brought  these  plans  to 
an  untimely  end,  and  I had  to  spend  the  greater  part 
of  my  time  within  the  borders  of  the  British  posses- 
sion. Port  Moresby,  the  British  Government  station, 
consequently  became  my  main  base  of  operations,  and 
it  was  in  a north-westerly  and  south-easterly  direction 
from  that  settlement  that  my  journeyings  lay.  On  the 
first  of  these  I went  by  sea  from  Port  Moresby  north- 
west to  Yule  Island,  separated  from  the  mainland  by 
Hall  Sound,  and  then  I struck  up  the  Ethel  River  as 
far  as  Oofafa,  where  we  began  our  march  into  the 
interior.  The  chief  points  of  the  route  as  noted  on 
the  map  were  Epa  and  Ekeikei,  Madui,  and  then  on 
to  Dinawa,  where  we  established  our  first  camp,  and 
settled  down  for  five  months’  work,  which  included 
a short  expedition  to  the  St.  Joseph  River.  Return- 
ing to  Port  Moresby,  and  having  some  time  to  spare, 
I and  my  son  went  down  the  coast  75  miles  to  the 
south-east,  partly  on  foot,  partly  by  boat,  by  way  of 
Tupeselae,  Kappa-kappa,  Kalo,  and  Kerapuna,  as  far 
as  Hood’s  Bay,  a journey  rather  of  observation  than 
of  exploration,  for  the  region  is  within  the  sphere 
of  missionary  enterprise,  and  cannot  be  regarded  as 
altogether  unknown,  although  the  geographer  has  not 

25 


BREAKING  THE  GROUND 


yet  by  any  means  had  his  last  word  upon  it.  Reach- 
ing Port  Moresby  by  a reversal  of  the  same  route,  we 
returned  once  more  to  Yule  Island,  and  struck  inland 
by  way  of  Mekeo  and  Epa  to  Ekeikei,  where  we  built 
our  second  and  most  elaborate  camp,  which  served  us 
as  the  base  for  our  furthest  journey  to  Mount  Kebea, 
and  thence  inland  by  way  of  Googoolee,  Cooloo-coolu, 
Babooni,  Amana,  Foula,  and  Avola,  to  Mafalu,  our 
highest  point. 

It  may  be  worth  while  noting  that  as  soon  as  we 
had  passed  Bioto  Creek  on  the  Ethel  River,  existing 
maps  ceased  to  be  of  use  to  us,  and  with  the  exception 
of  a few  vaguely  indicated  mountains,  presented  a com- 
plete blank.  Such  outlines  of  topography  as  we  have 
filled  in  give  in  every  case  the  native  name  of  the 
place.  The  fashion  of  rechristening  localities,  although 
often  complimentary  to  European  explorers  and  their 
friends,  pastors,  masters,  and  disciples,  and  probably 
commemorative  of  a discovery,  seems  to  me  always  to 
sever  an  interesting  link  with  the  country  under  exami- 
nation. For  this  reason  I prefer  the  melodious  native 
name  Papua  to  its  western  supplanter  New  Guinea. 

Our  chief  movements  inland  may  comprehensively 
be  taken  to  lie  within  a region  bounded  by  a radius 
of  50  miles  around  Delana  on  Hall  Sound.  On  enter- 
ing the  unexplored  region  we  found  ourselves  at  first 
in  a flat,  swampy  country,  intersected  by  a few  tiny 
creeks,  some  not  more  than  two  feet  wide,  running 
through  grass.  We  next  passed  the  eucalyptus  belt 
and  then  came  the  forest  proper,  in  which  the  trees 
were  at  first  set  in  isolated  patches.  Undergrowth 
there  was,  but  it  did  not  attain  any  density,  and  at 

26 


A FEATHERED  ARTIST,  THE  BOWER-BIRI),  WITH  HIS  HOUSE  AND  GARDEN. 

He  distinguishes  between  colours,  lays  out  his  garden  in  alternate  rows  of  white  and  mauve  flowers. 


BREAKING  THE  GROUND 

intervals  we  could  trace  the  trails  of  the  sandalwood 
cutter.  Not  long  after  leaving  Oofafa  we  found  a 
rocky  eminence,  from  which  we  enjoyed  a lovely  view 
of  the  entire  Bioto  Creek  winding  between  a dense 
border  of  mangroves,  the  vivid  green  of  which  marked 
the  course  of  the  inlet,  even  when  the  shimmer  of  the 
water  in  the  sunlight  was  entirely  veiled  by  the  over- 
hanging vegetation.  Beyond  lay  the  broader  waters 
of  Hall  Sound,  bounded  by  the  wooded  shores  of  Yule 
Island,  and  to  the  west  we  could  descry  Nicora,  a small 
village  on  a hill  of  red  clay.  The  vista  was  closed  by 
the  sea,  and  in  the  clear  atmosphere  the  picture  was 
one  to  be  remembered.  We  then  entered  a flat  tract, 
an  apparent  plateau,  at  a height  of  1000  feet,  and 
for  a time  travelling  was  over  comparatively  easy 
ground,  but  at  Epa  the  forest  and  our  difficulties 
began  in  earnest.  Henceforward  we  had  to  depend 
on  one  or  two  trails  very  difficult  to  follow,  and  hills 
and  valleys  became  continuous.  Fifteen  miles  inland 
lay  before  us  a line  of  rugged  peaks,  whither  we  were 
bound,  but  many  more  miles  than  fifteen  would  have 
to  be  covered  before  we  reached  them.  Further  off 
still  towered  Mount  Yule,  our  first  glimpse  of  the 
Papuan  Alps.  Passing  Ekeikei  we  entered  the  region 
of  ridges,  often  scarcely  twelve  inches  wide,  and  afford- 
ing only  the  most  precarious  foothold.  The  path  as 
we  rose  became  still  more  rugged,  and  was  crossed  by 
numerous  creeks.  Then  the  character  of  the  forest 
changed,  and  we  traversed  damp  and  gloomy  tracts, 
where  the  thick  vegetation  excluded  the  sunlight. 
The  track  at  this  point  skirted  vast  and  threatening 
precipices.  At  Madui  we  encountered  peaty  and 

29 


BREAKING  THE  GROUND 


spongy  ground,  thickly  interwoven  with  roots,  which 
impeded  our  progress  and  made  the  advance  peculiarly 
toilsome,  and  the  last  stage  to  Dinawa  was  a long  dip 
and  a longer  ascent.  Once  there,  however,  we  were 
rewarded  by  a delightfully  bracing  climate  and  a 
glorious  panorama  of  mountain  scenery,  a delight  we 
often  longed  for  at  Mafalu,  our  furthest  and  highest 
point,  where  all  view,  save  through  an  opening  we 
ourselves  cut  in  the  trees,  was  denied  us.  Even  that 
was  generally  obscured,  so  incessant  was  the  rain  and 
wetting  mist.  At  favourable  moments,  however,  we 
would  see  through  our  clearing  the  sunlight  in  the 
valley  far  below  us,  although  we  ourselves,  dwelling 
as  we  did  among  the  clouds,  were  denied  that  boon. 

Such  then,  in  brief  outline,  were  the  changes  of 
scenery  through  which  we  passed.  The  alternations 
of  climate  were  not  less  varied.  In  Dutch  New 
Guinea  it  was  very  hot  and  humid,  often  1 50°  F.  in 
the  sun  and  no°  in  the  shade.  On  “cool”  nights 
we  had  temperatures  varying  from  75 0 to  8o°.  At 
Port  Moresby  160°  was  no  uncommon  temperature, 
and  this  was  rendered  worse  by  the  lack  of  shade  and 
the  stony,  arid  country.  The  great  heat  begins  to  be 
felt  about  11  a.m.,  and  lasts  until  3 p.m.  during  the 
season  of  the  N.W.  monsoon.  The  atmosphere  is,  how- 
ever, fairly  dry  at  times,  and  the  highest  temperature 
is  not  nearly  so  unendurable  as  I have  found  90°  in 
the  shade  at  Manaos,  at  the  confluence  of  the  Amazon 
and  the  Rio  Negro,  where  the  air  is  saturated,  and 
one  sits  mopping  oneself  continually  and  praying  for 
sunset,  although  even  that  brings  but  slight  relief. 
This  never  happens  at  Port  Moresby,  where  there  is 

30 


BREAKING  THE  GROUND 


sometimes  a pleasantly  cool  evening.  Towards  night- 
fall the  S.E.  monsoon  dies  away,  and  the  same  holds 
good  for  Yule  Island  and  Hood’s  Bay.  For  some 
distance  inland  these  conditions  prevail,  but  after 
Ekeikei  (1500  feet)  there  is  a decided  change.  Con- 
siderable humidity  prevails  in  the  forest,  and  although 
at  midday  the  heat  is  scarcely  less  oppressive  than  on 
the  coast,  yet  the  traveller  is  sustained  by  the  pros- 
pect of  relief,  for  the  evenings  are  deliciously  cool. 
The  average  day,  too,  was  not  unbearably  hot  at 
these  higher  altitudes.  In  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
Deeanay  precipice,  owing  to  the  dense  forest  and  the 
plentiful  streams,  it  is  quite  cool  all  day,  and  at 
Dinawa  (3600  feet),  although  we  have  recorded  noon 
temperatures  of  120°  in  the  sun,  the  average  at  4 a.m. 
was  from  63°  to  65°.  Winds  were  infrequent,  but  at 
night  there  was  a brief  land  breeze  from  the  higher 
mountains. 

On  the  Kehea  the  climatic  conditions  are  very 
similar,  but  there  is  more  mist,  and  in  the  morning 
the  valleys  are  filled  with  great  masses  of  white 
rolling  cloud,  which  rise  and  disappear  as  the  sun 
gains  power.  These  vapours  sometimes  assume  a 
perfectly  level  surface,  so  that  they  resemble  an  ocean 
or  a vast  plain  of  snow,  through  which  the  higher 
peaks  rise  like  islands.  At  Mafalu  the  average  tem- 
perature was  down  to  590  F.  at  nights,  and  highest  in 
day  8o°  under  the  leafage  of  the  forest,  and  mist  and 
rain  were  almost  continual  from  1 1 a.m.  to  3 p.m. 
As  the  sun  sank  the  heavens  would  clear,  and  the  mist 
floated  past  in  thin  wreaths,  or  lay  still  in  long,  ghostly 
trails  if  no  wind  blew.  The  nights  were  often  cold, 

3i 


BREAKING  THE  GROUND 


and  these  altered  conditions  were  not  without  their 
visible  effect  on  animated  nature,  for  at  Mafalu  the 
insects  changed,  and  we  secured  a fine  selection  of 
Lepidoptera  we  had  not  met  with  before. 

This  brief  sketch  of  the  configuration  and  condi- 
tions of  the  country  through  which  we  travelled  may, 
I trust,  serve  as  a key  to  the  more  detailed  account 
of  our  journey,  and  with  the  directions  and  altitudes 
thus  succinctly  placed  before  him,  the  reader  may 
possibly  find  it  easier  to  follow  us  up  hill  and  down 
dale.  There  is  one  more  point  I would  venture  to 
impress  upon  him,  a point  which  will  recur  again  and 
again — he  may  fancy  ad  nauseam — the  difficulties  of 
transport  in  Papua.  But  that  was  the  main  crux  of  our 
experience,  and  its  importance  can  hardly  be  realised 
by  one  who  has  not  undergone  similar  troubles.  You 
are  entirely  in  the  hands  of  the  natives,  without 
whom  you  cannot  stir  a foot.  All  your  impedimenta, 
your  food,  stores,  scientific  implements,  and  “ trade  ” 
(material  for  barter,  the  equivalent  of  ready  money) 
must  go  on  the  backs  of  your  cannibal  friends,  a 
people  without  organisation,  who  are  hard  to  collect 
and  hard  to  persuade  to  follow  you.  It  is  necessary 
to  rely  on  yourself  to  secure  followers,  though  here 
and  there  a chief  may  aid  you.  One  such,  the  greatest 
“ character  ” we  encountered  in  Papua,  will  be  intro- 
duced to  the  reader  at  the  proper  place.  On  the 
march  continual  apprehension  besets  the  traveller  lest 
his  carriers  bolt,  for  if  this  happened  in  the  interior 
he  would  be  done  for,  and  he  would  have  a terrible 
business  to  get  out  of  the  country,  if  indeed  he  got 
out  at  all.  Hence  the  reason  why  I have  dwelt  on 

32 


GUARDING  THE  WORKERS. 

•Cultivated  ground  is  generally  some  distance  from  the  villages.  It  is  tilled  by  young  women, 
who  are  guarded  by  young  natives  armed  with  spears. 


BREAKING  THE  GROUND 

our  perpetually  recurring  difficulties  with  carriers,  for 
the  natives  were  veritably  our  staff  and  scrip  ; and  had 
these  failed  us  at  a crucial  moment,  our  expedition 
would  have  broken  down  utterly,  to  the  great  loss  of 
those  who  had  risked  much  on  the  undertaking. 

On  the  commission  of  several  friends,  all  scientific 
enthusiasts,  whom  I have  named  elsewhere,  I and  my 
son  Harry,  a lad  of  sixteen,  left  England  in  January 
1901,  and  sailed  eastward  on  board  the  Duke  of 
Sutherland  to  Thursday  Island,  whence  we  proceeded 
on  board  the  Netherlands  gunboat  Neas  to  Dutch  New 
Guinea.  My  brief  stay  there,  and  the  disappointments 
that  led  to  my  seeking  a different  field  of  operations, 
form  the  subject  of  the  following  chapter. 


35 


CHAPTER  II 

DISAPPOINTMENTS  IN  DUTCH 
NEW  GUINEA 

Dutch  New  Guinea  — The  Coast — Unsavoury  Mud-banks  — 
Merauke — The  Dutch  Settlement  described — Its  Wonderful 
Modernity — A Fierce  Tribe,  the  Tugeri,  now  described  for  the 
First  Time — Their  Appearance  and  Habits — Their  Continual 
Murderous  Raids  — The  Fearful  Bamboo  Knife  — Scientific 
Work  here  impossible  owing  to  Danger  of  going  beyond 
Settlement  Boundaries — Outbreak  of  a Mysterious  Disease  at 
Merauke — Its  Swift  Deadliness — The  Symptoms  — Deter- 
mine to  leave  Dutch  New  Guinea  and  prepare  for  a March 
into  the  Unexplored  Interior. 


CHAPTER  II 


DISAPPOINTMENTS  IN  DUTCH  NEW  GUINEA 

As  we  approached  the  shores  of  Dutch  New  Guinea, 
we  first  descried  low-lying  tracts  of  marshy  land.  To 
the  water’s  edge  came  tall  trees  loaded  with  orchids 
of  the  most  brilliant  hues  and  of  many  varieties, 
notably  the  Dendrobium.  The  mangrove  swamps,  else- 
where so  common  in  New  Guinea,  were  here  entirely 
absent.  Under  the  trees,  close  even  to  the  water’s 
brink,  could  be  seen  a dense  tangled  undergrowth. 
There  was  no  beach,  only  muddy  shores.  At  low  tide 
the  water  recedes,  probably  for  a quarter  of  a mile, 
leaving  hard  mud  flats  capable  of  sustaining  men  bare- 
foot. During  the  winter  monsoon  a heavy  surf  would 
break  on  these  flats,  but  we  arrived  in  fine  weather, 
and  the  water  was  perfectly  calm. 

Of  course,  the  Neas  could  not  go  inshore,  but 
had  to  stand  off  to  a distance  of  at  least  ten  miles, 
and  we  had  to  land  by  the  boat.  A prominent  feature 
of  the  landscape  was  a great  spreading  tree,  which  the 
Dutch  sailors  had  taken  as  their  chief  bearing  for  find- 
ing the  mouth  of  the  Merauke  River.  Had  the  hostile 
natives  only  known  how  the  access  to  their  jealously 
guarded  territory  depended  upon  that  one  landmark, 
it  would  certainly  not  have  been  allowed  to  stand 
long.  These  characteristic  shores  fringe  the  mouth  of 
the  Merauke  River,  which  empties  itself  through  a 

39  c 


DISAPPOINTMENTS 


small  estuary  about  three  times  as  wide  as  the  Thames 
at  Greenwich.  It  is  navigable  for  about  six  miles, 
and  at  the  furthest  end  it  so  narrows  that  the  vessel 
could  be  put  about  only  by  a clever  manoeuvre,  during 
which  her  bow  and  stern  all  but  touched  the  banks. 
With  a small  survey  boat,  however,  such  as  the  Neas, 
drawing  from  io  to  12  feet  of  water,  the  river  may 
be  navigated  for  about  160  miles.  From  larger  vessels 
lying  in  the  river  off  the  new  Dutch  settlement  of 
Merauke,  which  was  our  point  of  arrival,  it  was  usual 
to  land  in  a small  dinghy. 

A row  of  a few  yards  brought  us  to  a primitive 
staging,  built  on  piles,  supporting  a floating  platform 
of  logs,  very  slippery  with  the  slime  left  by  the  river 
at  high  tide.  These  treacherous  logs  were  far  enough 
apart  to  permit  of  a man’s  slipping  easily  between  them 
into  the  unsavoury  stream.  Unsavoury  indeed  it  was, 
for  the  waters  of  the  Merauke  are  blue  with  a greasy 
alluvial  deposit,  closely  resembling  the  “blue  slipper” 
so  well  known  to  geologists  in  the  Isle  of  Wight. 
The  Dutch  Settlement  lay  close  to  the  landing-stage. 
It  presented  a rough  collection  of  houses  and  barracks 
for  the  Netherlands  troops.  The  largest  building  was 
the  barracks,  a fairly  well-built  structure  of  wood, 
capable  of  accommodating  all  the  Dutch  troops,  a 
force  of  about  150.  The  house  of  Mr.  Kroesen, 
who  was  at  that  time  the  Resident,  was  quite 
an  attractive  building,  with  a glass  roof  and  thin 
bamboo  walls  hung  with  a few  curtains.  It  contained 
ten  apartments,  all  on  the  ground  floor.  Next  in 
importance  was  the  house  of  the  Comptroller,  Mr. 
Schadee,  which  had  only  one  apartment,  with  a large 

40 


The  body  of  the  drum  is  cut  and  hollowed  from  a solid  trunk,  and  curiously  carved.  The  drumheads  are  of  lizard  skin. 


DISAPPOINTMENTS 


projecting  roof  and  a fine  verandah,  under  which  the 
Comptroller  entertained  his  friends.  A little  distance 
away  were  the  open  sleeping  sheds  of  the  Javanese 
convicts  who  had  been  brought  there  to  build  the 
Settlement  and  to  drain  the  marsh. 

It  is  curious  that  the  Dutch  always  choose  low- 
lying  spots  for  their  settlements.  Some  instinct  of 
home  seems  to  draw  them  to  the  flat  lands,  and  better 
sites  at  a loftier  elevation  are  neglected.  Merauke, 
however,  was  chosen  for  another  reason.  The  Dutch 
had  been  good  enough  to  make  their  Settlement  here 
to  prevent  the  Tugeri  from  making  raids  on  to  the 
British  territory.  The  thoroughness  of  the  Dutch 
character,  however,  appears  in  the  equipment  of  their 
station.  When  I arrived  at  Merauke  the  Settlement 
was  only  two  months  old,  but  it  was  already  furnished 
with  every  accessory  of  civilisation,  even  including 
iron  lamp-posts  from  Europe.  It  offered,  in  this 
respect,  a striking  contrast  to  the  old  British  Settle- 
ment of  Port  Moresby.  Merauke  was  built  in  a forest 
clearing,  and  the  Dutch  had  already  laid  out  gardens 
after  the  Netherlands  pattern,  and  were  raising  vege- 
tables in  the  coffee-coloured  soil — the  result  of  cen- 
turies of  alluvial  deposit — a soil  so  rich  and  productive 
that  beans  may  be  gathered  three  weeks  after  being 
sown.  The  gardening  is  carried  on  entirely  by  the 
civilians,  the  officers  and  men  confining  themselves 
exclusively  to  their  military  duties.  As  the  Settlement 
had  been  established  in  the  centre  of  a dangerous  and 
turbulent  district,  it  was  protected  with  barbed  wire 
defences  and  with  a ring  of  block-houses  on  the  land- 
ward side.  The  state  of  unrest  then  prevailing  pre- 

43 


DISAPPOINTMENTS 


vented  me  from  carrying  on  my  scientific  work.  I 
had  come  to  Merauke  to  explore  and  collect  in  new 
territory,  but  the  long-standing  difficulty  with  the 
warlike  Tugeri  tribe  was  still  acute,  and  the  very  day 
after  I landed  we  had  abundant  proof  of  how  unwise 
it  would  be  to  penetrate  into  the  interior.  On  that 
day  three  or  four  Javanese  convicts  who  were  working 
on  the  edge  of  the  clearing  were  heard  to  shout  as 
though  in  distress.  In  five  minutes  an  armed  guard 
was  on  the  spot,  but  all  the  convicts  were  found 
decapitated  by  the  head-hunting  Tugeri.  The  heads 
had  been  taken  off  with  the  bamboo  knife  so  cleverly, 
that  the  doctor  on  board  our  ship  told  me  that  no 
surgeon  with  the  latest  surgical  instruments  could  have 
removed  so  many  heads  in  so  short  a time. 

This  bamboo  knife  of  the  Tugeri  is  a very  remark- 
able weapon.  It  is  simply  a piece  of  cane  stripped 
off  from  the  parent  stem,  leaving  a natural  edge  as 
keen  as  the  finest  tempered  steel. 

Nor  was  this  the  only  outrage.  A Chinese  woman 
had  died,  and  had  been  buried  in  the  graveyard  near 
the  Settlement.  The  next  morning  the  grave  was 
found  to  have  been  violated,  the  head  taken,  and  all 
the  clothing  removed.  The  Tugeri  never  showed 
themselves  all  this  time,  but  it  was  known  that  they 
were  watching  Merauke  from  the  dense  screen  of 
undergrowth  which  came  down  to  the  edge  of  the 
clearing. 

British  settlers  on  the  western  boundary  of  British 
New  Guinea  have  for  a long  time  been  harassed 
by  Tugeri  raiders  from  the  Dutch  side,  and  the 
Lieutenant-Governor’s  report  for  1899-1900  contains 

44 


DISAPPOINTMENTS 

an  exhaustive  account  of  the  negotiations  between 
the  British  and  Dutch  authorities  for  the  suppres- 
sion of  these  outrages  and  the  indemnification  of  suf- 
ferers. In  1896  Sir  William  Macgrcgor  undertook 
a punitive  expedition  against  the  Tugeri,  and  at  the 
time  believed  that  he  had  finally  driven  them  out  of 
British  territory ; but  during  a murderous  raid  on  the 
Sanana  tribe,  shortly  before  1900,  many  persons  were 
killed  and  carried  away.  The  chief  result  of  the 
negotiations,  apart  from  the  settlement  of  indemnity 
and  the  undertaking  of  search  for  missing  persons, 
was  the  Dutch  decision  to  appoint  a resident  official 
for  that  part  of  their  territory  which  adjoins  the 
British  possessions.  Hence  the  establishment  of  the 
Merauke  Settlement,  and  the  appointment  of  Mr. 
Kroesen  to  take  charge  of  it.  The  Netherlands 
Government  has  guaranteed  a special  sum  for  the 
administration  of  Merauke,  and  the  Dutch  officers 
there  have  also  been  authorised  to  correspond  directly 
with  the  British  officers  in  the  western  division  on 
matters  requiring  their  mutual  attention,  instead  of,  as 
the  Blue  Book  says,  “ by  the  circumlocutory  channels 
of  their  respective  Governments.” 

My  opportunities  for  observing  the  Tugeri  were, 
therefore,  necessarily  limited,  but  I am,  I believe,  the 
first  person  who  has  made  any  study  of  this  remarkable 
tribe,  and,  as  far  as  I am  aware,  they  have  remained 
hitherto  undescribed.  They  are  a very  numerous 
people,  inhabiting  a tract  of  country  extending  as 
far  west  as  the  Marianne  Strait,  and  as  far  east 
as  the  Fly  River  at  longitude  1410.  Inland  their 
boundaries  are  unknown,  but  it  is  probable  that  they 

45 


DISAPPOINTMENTS 


extend  a considerable  distance  from  the  coast.  They 
are  known  to  have  co-terminous  boundaries  with  the 
Kewi  people,  from  whom  the  British  draw  their  police, 
and  who  are  first  found  at  the  mouth  of  the  Fly 
River. 

The  first  to  visit  the  Tugeri  was  a renegade 
missionary,  who  had  absconded  with  some  of  the 
mission  funds.  He  came  upon  the  tribe  by  accident. 
They  captured  him,  took  away  his  boat,  his  clothes, 
and  all  that  he  possessed.  Curiously  enough  they 
did  not  kill  him,  but  gave  him  a house  and  food.  He 
stayed  with  them  on  very  friendly  terms  for  about  six 
months,  and  was  at  length  taken  off  by  a schooner 
which  chanced  to  touch  on  the  coast. 

The  second  white  man  who  observed  them  was 
Captain  Pym,  who  is  said  to  have  been  the  discoverer 
of  the  Merauke  River,  and  who  was  certainly  one  of 
the  first  traders  there. 

The  Tugeri  are  a fine  race,  very  fierce,  and  abso- 
lutely unspoiled  by  European  vices.  The  men  stand 
about  5 feet  8 inches  on  an  average,  and  are  clean- 
limbed, powerful  fellows,  capable  of  any  amount  of 
endurance.  As  a race,  they  are  broad-shouldered, 
sinewy,  and  of  enormous  strength.  No  European  can 
draw  their  bow.  This  weapon  is  made  of  a longi- 
tudinal section  of  the  bamboo.  Near  the  grip  the 
diameter  is  about  3^  inches,  and  the  wood  tapers  at 
each  end  to  a diameter  of  f-inch.  The  string  is  of 
twisted  fibre,  and  the  arrow,  which  is  made  of  a reed, 
carries  to  a distance  of  at  least  300  yards.  Like  all 
savages,  they  are  admirable  marksmen. 

In  the  typical  Merauke  Tugeri  the  head  is  rather 

46 


THE  NATIVE  METHOD  OF  THEE  CLIMBING 


DISAPPOINTMENTS 


conical,  and  the  forehead  high  but  receding.  The  hair 
is  sparse,  beginning  well  up  on  the  cranium,  and 
falling  in  long  strands  to  the  middle  of  the  back 
beyond  the  shoulder  blades.  The  hair  is  plaited  with 
grass  and  string,  and  from  the  plait  at  the  back  rises 
a single  osprey  feather.  The  eyebrows  are  straight 
and  meeting,  the  eyes  black,  large,  and  heavy.  The 
nose  is  broad  and  flat,  but  with  a prominent  bridge,  the 
mouth  degraded  and  fatuous,  but  the  lips  neither  so 
thick  nor  so  protruding  as  the  negro’s.  The  ears  lie 
fairly  flat  to  the  head,  and  are  not  abnormally  large. 
The  men  wear  an  enormous  ear  ornament  of  bamboo 
bent  into  an  open  ring.  Round  the  periphery  of  this 
ring  the  flesh  of  the  lobe  of  the  ear,  previously  per- 
forated, is  stretched  in  infancy,  and  as  the  individual 
grows  the  natural  spring  of  the  bamboo  stretches  the 
flesh  more  and  more,  until  in  manhood  a loop  is 
formed  big  enough  to  hold  a ring  of  at  least  4 inches 
in  diameter.  It  is  extraordinary  how  the  tribesmen 
contrive  to  move  amidst  the  tangled  forest  without 
hindrance  from  this  abnormal  expansion  of  the  lobe, 
the  most  unusual  flesh  decoration  to  be  found  amongst 
mankind.  When  the  bamboo  is  out  the  loop  hangs 
like  a long  pendant,  a perfect  skein  of  flesh,  a pecu- 
liarly hideous  accessory  of  savage  adornment.  Some  of 
the  Tugeri  wear  an  apology  for  a beard,  or  rather  two 
scraggy  tufts  of  hair  depending  from  each  side  of  the 
chin.  The  use  of  pomatum  in  any  form  is  unknown. 
The  teeth  are  strong  and  fairly  regular,  but  perfectly 
brown,  owing  to  the  habit  of  chewing  the  betel-nut. 

For  personal  adornment  the  Tugeri  wear  two 
crossed  straps  of  dogs’  teeth  strung  together  with 

49 


DISAPPOINTMENTS 


grass.  Each  strap  is  about  3 inches  wide,  and  is 
formed  of  nine  parallel  rows  of  teeth.  The  strap  that 
rests  on  the  left  shoulder  passes  under  the  right  arm- 
pit  ; that  over  the  right  shoulder  passes  outside  the 
left  arm  above  the  elbow.  The  straps  are  lightly 
fastened  at  the  point  where  they  cross  the  breast. 
Round  the  right  arm,  just  above  the  elbow,  they  wear 
a curious  armlet.  In  the  case  of  the  richer  tribesmen 
this  is  of  shell,  decorated  with  grass,  or  of  grass  deco- 
rated with  shell.  The  breadth  is  from  5 to  6 inches. 
On  the  stomach  to  the  right  are  two  or  three  hori- 
zontal scars  made  by  cutting  or  burning.  These  are 
self-inflicted  for  superstitious  reasons.  The  lower  part 
of  the  stomach  is  tightly  drawn  in  (often  extremely 
tight)  with  a coil  of  finely  plaited  fibre.  This  seems 
to  be  worn  for  elegance  alone,  and  tight-lacing  is  a 
ruling  fashion  among  the  Tugeri  dandies : the  tighter 
the  lacing  the  greater  the  dandy.  From  fifteen  to 
sixteen  years  of  age  the  young  men  are  hopeless 
victims  to  fashion.  The  Tugeri  go  barefoot,  but  wear 
grass  anklets  adorned  with  shells,  which  rattle  like 
castanets  as  they  walk.  I observed,  however,  no 
dances,  although  these,  I understand,  are  performed 
in  their  villages.  For  decency’s  sake  they  wear  a 
shell  after  the  manner  of  the  statuesque  fig-leaf,  and 
their  costume  is  completed  by  a necklace  of  dogs’ 
teeth  and  small  pieces  of  bone,  such  treasures  as  a 
savage  prizes. 

Despite  the  natural  ferocity  of  the  Tugeri,  the  tribe 
is  not  without  some  rudimentary  notions  of  courtesy, 
and  they  paid  the  Dutch  on  their  arrival  a similar 
compliment  to  that  paid  to  Captain  Cook,  that  is  to 

50 


DISAPPOINTMENTS 


say,  they  were  good  enough  to  offer  to  provide  wives 
for  the  sailors  from  among  their  own  women.  Certain 
traders  in  British  New  Guinea  are  not  above  accepting 
this  civility,  for  the  possession  of  a native  woman  is 
often  a valuable  business  asset.  Some  sandalwood 
cutters,  for  example,  frequently  make  these  left-handed 
marriages,  for  the  mistress  is  influential  in  obtaining 
workers  for  her  husband  from  among  her  own  people. 
One  sandalwood  cutter,  a Malay,  who  has  made  a large 
fortune  at  his  trade,  could  always  obtain  double  the 
number  of  labourers  procurable  by  any  other  trader  on 
account  of  his  liaison  with  a native  woman,  by  whom 
he  has  a large  family.  His  numerous  Papuan  blood- 
relations  stand  him  in  good  stead  in  his  business. 

The  houses  of  the  Tugeri  are  built  of  grass  and 
bamboo.  The  walls  rise  to  a height  of  about  ten  feet 
and  are  covered  with  a span  roof.  I observed  their 
villages  only  from  a distance,  however,  and  never 
accompanied  the  Dutch  soldiers  on  any  of  their  expe- 
ditions. Some  of  the  villages  are  very  large,  consisting 
of  two  or  three  hundred  houses.  Near  the  townships 
immense  cocoanut  plantations  invariably  occur,  and 
these  seem  to  form  the  chief  wealth  of  the  Tugeri. 

A strange  part  of  the  Tugeri’s  paraphernalia  was 
their  extraordinary  drums.  The  body  of  these,  shaped 
like  a dice-box,  was  hewn  out  of  a solid  log,  hollowed, 
and  curiously  carved.  Midway  at  the  narrowest  point 
was  a clumsy  handle,  also  hewn  from  the  log.  The 
drum  heads  are  of  lizard  skin.  The  performer  carries 
the  instrument  by  the  handle  in  the  left  hand,  and 
beats  with  his  right.  The  noise  is  prodigious. 

The  tribe  domesticates  the  gaura.  This  bird  has 

51 


DISAPPOINTMENTS 


frequently  been  described  by  naturalists,  but  a short 
account  of  it  may  not  be  inopportune  here,  as  I was 
fortunate  in  obtaining  many  good  specimens  of  it. 
The  gaura  is  half  as  large  again  as  the  guinea-fowl, 
and  weighs  from  five  to  ten  pounds.  The  beak  is 
longer  than  that  of  the  ordinary  pigeon,  but  is  not 
large  in  proportion  to  the  bird.  It  has  the  ordinary 
characteristics  of  the  pigeon  beak.  The  head  is  small, 
the  neck  short,  the  body  full  and  fleshy,  and  remarkably 
fine  eating.  The  back  is  broad  and  rounded,  the  legs 
brightish  red  and  characteristically  those  of  the  pigeon 
breed.  The  plumage  of  the  head  is  a bluish  silver 
grey  with  a fine  crest  of  a lighter  shade.  The  crest 
feathers  are  very  open  in  their  branching.  When 
erected,  the  crest  spreads  out  like  a fan  and  makes  a 
noble  display.  The  breast  feathers  are  a rich  maroon, 
the  wings  and  back  a bluish  slate  colour.  There  are 
white  patches  on  the  wings,  which  are  tipped  with 
maroon.  The  tail  feathers  continue  the  shade  of  the 
back  until  within  two  inches  of  the  extremity,  when 
they  are  graduated  into  a lovely  grey,  almost  matching 
that  of  the  crest.  For  all  its  fine  looks  it  is  a silly 
bird,  short  and  heavy  of  flight,  and  easily  killed  when 
once  found.  The  sportsman  locates  the  gaura  by  its 
booming  sound. 

My  ten  days’  stay  at  Merauke  was  a time  of  strange 
misfortune,  and  while  there  I had  the  unenviable 
opportunity  of  observing  a very  serious  outbreak  of  a 
mysterious  disease,  which  was  said  to  be  that  deadly 
beri-beri,  which  has  lately  been  occupying  the  minds 
of  men  of  science.  For  some  time  there  had  been 
isolated  cases  among  the  Javanese  convicts,  but  about 

52 


DISAPPOINTMENTS 


the  second  week  in  April  the  Dutch  authorities  became 
greatly  alarmed  by  the  spread  of  the  disease.  Cases 
were  reported  daily,  and  all  proved  fatal.  At  last  the 
deaths  reached  the  terrible  figure  of  160  in  ten  days. 
The  victims  were  all  Javanese,  the  officials  and  natives 
went  unscathed.  The  doctors  of  the  Dutch  Colony 
were  very  able  men,  but  no  relief  could  be  given  to  the 
patient  beyond  administering  anaesthetics.  I question 
whether  it  was  rightly  styled  beri-beri,  for  in  South 
America,  at  Manaos  on  the  Rio  Negro,  I have  seen 
cases  of  the  disease  among  the  Portuguese  rubber 
gatherers,  but  these  bore  no  resemblance  to  the  sick- 
ness at  Merauke.  The  sufferers  in  South  America 
were  generally  men  who  led  isolated  lives  in  the  vast 
forests  of  the  Amazons,  gathering  the  sap  of  the  hevea 
braziliensis,  and  living  for  long  periods  on  bad  food. 
Victims  of  this  type  of  beri-beri  generally  live  for  nine 
months,  and  those  of  strong  constitution  and  in  whom 
the  swelling  had  not  risen  above  the  knees  recovered. 
If  the  patient  lives  the  old  life  and  continues  the  old 
diet  in  the  forest,  the  disease  gradually  ascends  until 
it  gets  above  the  knees,  and  then  its  course  becomes 
very  rapid  until  it  reaches  the  heart. 

I myself  caught  beri-beri  on  the  Rio  Branco,  and 
first  noted  its  presence  by  the  discovery  of  a numb 
spot  about  the  size  of  a halfpenny  on  each  ankle. 
The  Brazilian  medical  men  assured  me  that  nowhere 
in  South  America  could  I hope  to  get  better,  and  I 
was  ordered  to  quit  the  country  at  once.  Before  I 
reached  Havre  the  numbness  was  greatly  reduced,  the 
affected  patch  being  then  the  size  of  a farthing,  and 
two  months  after  I reached  home,  it  vanished.  In 

53 


DISAPPOINTMENTS 


Columbia  I have  observed  exactly  the  same  form  of 
the  disease  as  on  the  Amazons. 

In  Merauke,  however,  sufferers  from  the  so-called 
beri-beri  had  no  seizure  of  paralysis  in  the  lower 
extremities.  It  was  always  in  the  abdomen,  and  was 
accompanied  by  the  most  excruciating  agony.  Death 
usually  came  in  four  hours.  There  was  no  relief 
from  pain ; the  intestines  seemed  to  be  knotted,  the 
patient’s  face  was  pale  and  agonised.  He  continually 
moaned,  strained  forward  and  doubled  his  body.  He 
held  his  stomach  with  both  hands,  and  occasionally 
lay  down  and  rolled,  and  as  the  end  approached,  the 
intestines  seemed  to  be  forced  upwards  towards  the 
thorax,  and  there  was  great  swelling.  The  doctors 
tried  poultices  and  fomentations  in  vain.  They  also 
administered  castor  oil  without  affording  any  allevia- 
tion of  the  suffering.  Perfect  consciousness  remained 
until  the  very  end,  and  the  last  thing  the  patient 
always  asked  for  was  fruit.  Five  minutes  after 
making  this  request,  he  was  dead. 

One  evening  we  spent  with  Mr.  Schadee  on  his 
verandah,  there  was  with  us  his  Javanese  clerk  (not 
a convict),  who  was  enjoying  his  cigarette  and  ap- 
parently in  the  best  of  health.  The  next  morning 
he  was  dead.  Our  carpenter  on  board  the  Van 
Doom  was  carried  off  with  equal  suddenness,  and 
he,  curiously  enough,  had  never  been  on  shore  all 
the  time  of  the  epidemic.  The  victims  were  always 
buried  within  five  hours.  As  to  the  communication 
of  infection,  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  disease  was 
due  in  each  case  to  external  causes,  or  whether  once 
having  broken  out  it  spread  from  man  to  man.  The 

54 


LAKATOI  (SAILING  HAI-'T  OF  CANOES)  AT  ANCHOR  AND  A DWELLING-HOUSE  Bl'ILT  OVER  THE  WATER. 


DISAPPOINTMENTS 


bad  rice,1  on  which  the  Javanese  live,  may  have  been 
the  cause.  At  the  same  time  it  may  be  noted,  that 
the  convicts  were  working  in  the  abominable  blue 
mud  of  the  river.  Another  article  of  diet  supplied  to 
the  Javanese  was  dried  fish,  very  ill  cured,  or  rather  not 
cured  at  all,  and  most  offensive  to  European  nostrils. 

The  epidemic  was  very  costly  to  the  Netherlands 
Government.  The  Van  Sivoll,  a Dutch  merchant- 
man, laden  with  the  necessary  plant  for  establishing 
a settlement,  was  at  that  time  lying  at  Merauke. 
After  the  beri-beri  broke  out,  there  was  no  labour 
available  to  unload  the  vessel.  Mr.  Kroesen  accord- 
ingly decided  to  ship  the  surviving  convicts  on  board 
the  Van  Sivoll,  and  send  her  back  to  Amboina.  There 
she  placed  the  convicts  in  a sanatorium,  and  went  on 
to  Timor  to  procure  a fresh  batch  of  convicts,  who 
were  to  return  with  her  to  Merauke  and  unload  her. 
The  delay  to  the  Van  Swoll  alone  cost  the  Dutch 
Government  800  guilders  a day. 

No  doubt  a settlement  in  a low  miasmatic  country 
is  in  itself  unfavourable,  but  I am  inclined  to  attribute 
the  disease  to  bad  diet.  This  so-called  beri-beri  occurs 
also  in  the  native  princes’  prisons  in  India,  where  the 
food  is  very  bad.  I am  disposed  to  believe  that  the 
Javanese  were  rendered  liable  to  attack,  because  their 
blood  had  been  impoverished  by  several  years  of  poor 
feeding  before  they  came  to  Merauke,  and  that  the 
climate  and  worse  food  than  they  had  had  in  Java  made 
them  ready  to  receive  the  germs  of  the  disease. 

Such  was  my  visit  to  Dutch  New  Guinea.  The 

1 Since  these  lines  were  written  an  eminent  medical  man,  a specialist 
on  beri-beri,  has  publicly  advanced  this  view. — E.  A.  P. 

57 


DISAPPOINTMENTS 

hostility  of  the  Tugeri  and  the  prevalence  of  disease 
rendered  scientific  work  out  of  the  question,  and 
accordingly  after  ten  days  I returned  to  Port  Moresby, 
there  to  secure  means  of  transport  for  an  expedition 
into  the  interior  of  British  New  Guinea,  where  I 
proposed  to  continue  my  studies  of  the  Lepidoptera 
peculiar  to  that  region. 


58 


CHAPTER  III 

CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 

We  sail  to  Thursday  Island — A Rough  Voyage  in  a Cattle-boat 
— A Glimpse  of  Thursday  Island — The  Wonderful  Colour  of  its 
Waters — We  reach  Port  Moresby — Contrast  to  the  Scenery  of 
Dutch  New  Guinea — Magnificent  Mountains — Evidences  of 
Drought — Vegetation  burnt  up — The  British  Government  Post 
of  Port  Moresby  described — A Good  Second  to  Hades  or  Aden 
— The  Great  Sight  of  Port  Moresby — A Community  of  Heredi- 
tary Potters — The  Pottery  Trading  Fleet — The  Strange  Vessels 
called  Lakatois — Their  Structure — Native  Orgies  before  the 
Expedition  starts — A New  Guinea  Ballet  on  Deck — Seclusion 
of  Women  after  the  Young  Braves  depart  with  the  Fleet — My 
Inland  Expedition  fitted  out — Official  Courtesy — Details  of 
Baggage — Transport  procured  after  Immense  Trouble. 


CHAPTER  III 


CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 

While  I lay  at  Merauke  oh  board  the  Van  Doom, 
the  steamship  Moresby  was  signalled.  On  this  I 
obtained  a passage  to  Port  Moresby,  the  seat  of 
government  in  British  New  Guinea,  so  I accordingly 
bade  farewell  to  Captain  De  Jong  of  the  Van  Doom, 
and  in  due  course  we  weighed  anchor  for  Thursday 
Island,  at  which  the  steamer  was  to  touch  on  her 
voyage.  The  Moresby  could  not  approach  Merauke 
nearer  than  twelve  miles,  so  we  went  out  to  her  on 
a small  petrol  launch.  There  happened  to  be  a 
tremendous  swell  on  at  the  time,  and  when  we  came 
alongside  the  Moresby  we  found  that  the  deck  of  the 
launch  was  often  ten  feet  from  the  companion,  and 
we  had  to  watch  our  opportunity  to  get  on  board. 
It  was  quite  half-an-hour  before  we  succeeded. 

We  found  our  steamer  by  no  means  attractive. 
She  was  most  unsavoury  on  account  of  the  cattle 
carried  for  the  ship’s  use.  The  cabins  were  below 
and  very  hot,  for  the  vessel  had  been  built  for  a cool 
climate,  and  was  not  at  all  suited  for  tropical  trade. 
She  was  an  ordinary  cargo  boat,  and  could  not  usually 
steam  faster  than  eight  knots  an  hour. 

A run  of  twenty-four  hours’  duration  brought  us 
to  Thursday  Island,  one  of  the  great  centres  of  the 
pearl  fishery,  where  many  nationalities  congregate  for 

61  n 


CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 


the  purposes  of  trade.  The  stores  are  kept  for  the 
most  part  by  Chinese,  and  Japanese  and  Chinese  boats 
call  there  on  their  way  south  to  Sydney.  The  coasters 
also  make  it  a point  of  call  as  they  pass  from  Brisbane 
and  Sydney  on  their  way  to  the  Gulf  of  Carpentaria 
and  Normanton,  the  great  centre  of  the  Eastern  cattle 
trade. 

Thursday  Island,  so  small  a dot  in  the  Eastern 
Archipelago  that  the  tiniest  mark  a geographer  can 
make  on  his  map  is  widely  out  of  proportion  to  its 
size,  rewards  the  traveller  well  for  a visit.  Although 
one  can  walk  round  the  island  in  an  hour  and  a half, 
the  locality  is  full  of  interest,  and  the  pearl  fishery  is 
very  engrossing  for  the  observer.  The  boats  of  the 
fishing  fleet  afford  a most  picturesque  accessory  to  the 
scene,  and  the  harbour  is  full  of  life.  Small  boats 
dart  about  everywhere,  and  there  is  a continual  coming 
and  going.  The  large  Chinese  and  Japanese  steamers, 
of  from  6000  to  7000  tons  burden,  are  continually 
arriving  at  and  leaving  the  Government  wharf.  The 
Europeans  are  most  agreeable  and  hospitable.  The 
sea  round  Thursday  Island  is  a most  wonderful  colour 
— in  parts  emerald  green  and  silver,  deep  blue  varied 
with  light  yellow  and  brown,  and  everywhere  perfectly 
clear.  The  tides,  which  at  times  flow  with  the 

rapidity  of  a mill-race,  have  been  studied,  but  are  not 
yet  understood.  They  are  tremendously  erratic  and 
very  dangerous.  Sometimes  they  run  at  the  rate  of 
seven  miles  an  hour,  and  against  this  steamers  can 
make  no  headway.  The  Torres  Straits  indeed,  as 
far  as  Cairns,  are  the  most  dangerous  seas  in  the 
world.  It  is,  of  course,  very  warm  in  Thursday 

62 


CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 


Island,  but  the  heat  is  tempered  by  the  most  delight- 
ful sea  breezes.  I could  have  enjoyed  a longer  stay 
than  twenty-four  hours,  but  that  was  the  limit  of  our 
vessel’s  call,  and  wre  left  next  day  for  Port  Moresby, 
which  we  reached  after  a two  days’  run. 

As  we  approached  the  coast  we  found  that  it  pre- 
sented a very  striking  contrast  to  that  of  Dutch  New 
Guinea.  Here  the  mountains  came  close  down  to 
the  coast,  which  was  rock-bound,  but  not  cut  to  sheer 
cliffs.  Inland  the  mountain  ranges  ran  parallel  with 
the  shore  line,  range  towering  above  range,  as  far 
as  the  eye  could  see,  the  whole  prospect  dominated 
by  the  magnificent  peak  of  Mount  Victoria,  which 
sprang  aloft  into  the  azure  to  a height  of  13,121 
feet.  Viewed  from  the  sea  Mount  Victoria  appears 
to  culminate  in  a plateau,  but  Sir  William  MacGregor 
declares  that  it  is  really  a mass  of  peaks. 

As  we  drew  nearer  to  the  shore  we  noted  unmis- 
takable evidence  of  the  drought,  which  had  just  set 
in,  and  which  lasted  for  nine  whole  months.  The 
vegetation  was  entirely  brown,  and  everything  seemed 
barren  and  burned  up.  The  drought,  it  was  said, 
extended  as  far  west  as  the  Fly  Piver,  at  the  141st 
degree  of  longitude.  Even  at  an  altitude  of  6000  feet, 
as  I found  afterwards,  lycopodiums,  orchids,  and  para- 
sites were  falling  off  the  trees,  and  this,  too,  within 
the  zone  of  humidity  for  New  Guinea. 

The  approach  to  Port  Moresby  is  dangerous  owing 
to  the  reefs  that  encircle  the  coast,  and  accordingly 
great  caution  had  to  be  used  in  navigating  the  ship 
into  the  harbour.  The  course  lies  east,  then  west 
along  a certain  known  channel,  and  finally  the 

65 


CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 


navigator  follows  the  coast  for  a few  hours,  when, 
rounding  a promontory  on  his  right,  he  catches  his 
first  glimpse  of  this  anchorage.  The  Government 
post  of  Port  Moresby,  although  picturesquely  situated 
among  rolling  hills  which  slope  down  to  the  water’s 
edge,  is  in  itself  unpretentious  enough — merely  a 
collection  of  houses  and  offices  of  bare,  galvanised 
iron,  architecturally  as  insignificant  as  rabbit  hutches. 
During  the  day  the  temperature  resembles  Hades  or 
Aden,  whichever  may  have  the  priority.  Here  the 
British  official  chooses  to  abide,  although  comfort- 
able houses  of  sago,  with  thick  grass  thatch,  cool  on 
the  hottest  day,  offering  a delightful  dwelling-place, 
might  be  had  only  a few  miles  distant.  A paternal 
administration,  however,  prescribes  galvanised  iron, 
and  there  its  servants  swelter,  patient  and  uncom- 
plaining, after  the  manner  of  Britons. 

Clustered  about  the  Government  buildings  are 
various  other  buildings — the  jail,  which  more  re- 
sembles a pleasure-ground,  shipping  offices,  stores, 
and  the  hotel.  On  an  elevation  at  the  farther  end 
of  the  bay  stands  Government  House,  a pleasantly- 
situated  bungalow  raised  off  the  ground  on  five-foot 
posts.  The  best  building  in  the  place,  as  one  might 
expect,  is  the  station  of  the  London  Missionary  Society. 

Life  at  Port  Moresby  is  not  without  its  events,  and 
one  of  the  most  noteworthy  of  its  public  spectacles, 
and  one  which  I was  fortunate  enough  to  see  on 
a subsequent  visit,  is  the  annual  starting  of  the 
lakatois  or  huge  sailing  rafts,  laden  with  pottery 
for  trade  in  the  western  part  of  the  possession. 

Those  who  are  familiar  with  the  postage-stamp  of 

66 


CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 


British  New  Guinea  must,  no  doubt,  have  often  won- 
dered what  manner  of  strange  craft  is  depicted  thereon. 
The  stamp,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  accompanying 
illustration,  bears  the  representation  of  a boat,  or 
rather  a raft,  carrying  two  gigantic  sails  resembling 
the  wings  of  some  weird  bird,  and  the  whole  appear- 
ance of  the  vessel  is  one  that  arouses  curiosity.  This 
is  the  laJcatoi,  the  remarkable  trading  vessel  of  the 
hereditary  potters  of  Hanuabada,  a little  village  not 
far  from  Port  Moresby.  The  hamlet,  with  its  neigh- 
bour, Elevada,  is  built  partly  on  land  and  partly  on 
piles  in  the  water ; but  while  the  land  part  of  Hanua- 
bada stands  on  the  mainland,  that  part  of  Elevada 
which  is  not  aquatic  is  founded  on  an  island. 

The  inhabitants  belong  to  the  Motu  tribe,  and 
their  numbers  do  not  exceed  800.  Their  long  grass- 
thatched  huts  rise  from  sixteen  to  twenty  feet  above 
land  or  water,  and  each  has  its  little  landing-stage  on 
a lower  tier.  The  main  poles  supporting  these  struc- 
tures are  of  rough-hewn  tree  trunks  driven  down  into 
the  soft  sand.  At  a height  of  from  five  to  six  feet 
above  the  water  the  natural  forks  of  the  main  poles 
are  retained,  and  across  these  logs  are  laid,  forming  a 
rude  platform.  Ladders  of  very  irregular  construction 
give  access  almost  at  haphazard  from  stage  to  stage. 
Looking  through  the  village  below  the  houses,  the  eye 
encounters  a perfect  forest  of  poles,  and  between  the 
dwellings  in  this  queer  Venice  of  the  East  run  little 
waterways  just  wide  enough  to  let  a canoe  pass  along 
without  grazing  its  outriggers.  The  houses  themselves 
each  contain  only  one  living  apartment. 

In  and  out  among  the  houses  ply  the  dug-out 

67 


CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 


canoes,  and  a very  charming  feature  of  the  village 
is  its  crowd  of  children,  playing  with  toy  lalcatois. 
The  smallest  of  these  toy  craft  are  made  of  a section 
of  bamboo  ballasted  with  stones,  with  a sail  of  the 
same  shape  as  that  of  the  great  rafts  used  by  the 
grown-up  people.  The  bigger  children,  scorning  the 
bamboo  vessels,  have  a larger  kind,  in  which  the 
canoes  are  real  little  dug-outs.  These  youngsters 
are  wonderful  swimmers,  and  as  they  conduct  their 
little  regattas  they  jump  about  in  the  water,  swimming 
and  diving  fearlessly,  and  enjoying  the  merriest  pos- 
sible time.  The  people  of  ITanuabada  are  an  agreeable 
and  rather  comely  race.  They  are  typical  south-east 
coast  natives,  with  shock  heads  of  black  wiry  hair. 
The  women,  who  carry  on  the  characteristic  industry  of 
the  place,  the  work  in  earthenware,  are  lithe  picturesque 
figures  in  their  long  ramis  or  kilts  of  grass. 

It  is  a curious  fact  that,  although  the  Hanuabada 
and  Elevada  people  live  actually  on  waters  that  teem 
with  fish,  they  are  poor  fishermen,  being,  in  fact,  too 
lazy  to  follow  that  craft.  They  are  accordingly  helped 
in  this  industry  by  the  Hula  people,  whose  fishing 
fleet  presents  at  night  one  of  the  most  weirdly  pic- 
turesque sights  in  Papua.  Of  this  I have  more  to  say 
in  a later  chapter. 

For  weeks  before  the  annual  trading  expedition 
Hanuabada  is  full  of  life.  At  every  turn  one  comes 
upon  women  crouching  on  the  ground,  fashioning 
lumps  of  clay  into  the  wonderfully  perfect  pottery  for 
which  the  village  is  famous.  The  men-folk,  although 
they  do  not  condescend  to  take  part  in  the  actual 
fashioning  of  the  pots,  are  good  enough  to  dig  the 

68 


HANUABADA  GIRLS  DANCING  AND  SINGING. 

Before  the  young  braves  sail  on  their  annual  pottery  trading  voyage,  which  they  make 
on  board  Lakatois  (sailing  rafts  of  canoes),  they  have  great  rejoicing,  and  the  young 
women  dance  on  the  decks  of  their  strange-looking  vessels. 


CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 


clay,  which  they  take  out  of  the  ground  with  a stone 
adze — a flat  stone  blade  lashed  to  the  shorter  extremity 
of  a forked  stick,  the  longer  extremity  forming  the 
handle. 

There  is  a distinct  organisation  of  labour  among 
the  potters,  the  women  being  divided  into  “makers” 
and  “ bakers.”  Several  “ makers  ” work  together  in 
a group.  They  use  no  wheel,  but  seize  a lump  of 
clay  with  both  hands,  and  make  a hole  large  enough 
to  get  the  right  hand  in,  whereupon  they  gradually 
give  the  vessel  its  contour.  After  being  roughly 
shaped,  it  is  smoothed  off  with  flat  sticks  or  the  palm 
of  the  hand.  The  finished  article  of  Hanuabada  ware 
is  in  the  form  of  a flattened  sphere  with  a very  wide 
mouth,  and  a neatly  finished  rim  six  or  eight  inches 
across.  Farther  to  the  east,  along  the  coast,  the 
pottery  is  highly  decorated,  but  it  is  much  more  crude 
in  form,  and  has  no  fine  rim.  The  pots  are  dried  in 
the  sun  for  several  days,  and  then  they  are  turned 
over  to  the  “ bakers,”  whose  fires  are  blazing  in  every 
street.  There  are  two  methods  of  baking.  One  is  to 
lay  the  pot  on  a heap  of  hot  ashes ; the  other  to  build 
the  fire  right  round  it.  The  vessel  is  watched  through 
the  whole  process,  and  is  continually  turned  on  the 
fire  with  a little  stick  thrust  into  the  mouth. 

When  many  hundreds  of  pots  have  been  completed, 
the  Hanuabada  people  begin  to  think  about  the  dis- 
posal of  their  wares.  Their  great  market  is  at  Paruru, 
a long  way  up  the  coast.  They  barter  their  pottery 
for  sago  with  the  nations  of  that  district,  and  it  is 
very  curious  to  note  that  this  extensive  trading  organi- 
sation on  the  part  of  an  utterly  savage  people  has  been 

7i 


CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 


in  existence  from  time  immemorial,  and  is  no  imitation 
of  European  methods.  To  reach  Paruru  the  potters 
must  undertake  a perilous  voyage,  for  which  they  are 
dependent  on  the  tail  of  the  south-east  monsoon. 

Then  comes  the  preparation  of  the  craft,  the 
lakatois.  Several  hundred  large  dug-out  canoes  are 
brought  together,  and  are  moored  side  by  side  at  the 
landing  stages  in  groups  of  six  or  ten.  While  this 
is  being  done  many  people  are  out  in  the  forest  cut- 
ting rattans  and  bamboos  for  lashing  the  dug-outs 
together,  and  for  the  upper  framework  of  the  rafts. 
Across  the  canoes,  after  they  have  been  ranged  at  the 
proper  distance  (amidships,  about  six  inches  apart, 
although  their  taper  ends  cause  a wider  gap  at  bow 
and  stern),  are  placed  long  bamboos,  extending  a 
considerable  distance  beyond  the  port  and  starboard 
sides  of  the  outermost  pair.  Along  the  gunwales 
of  each  canoe,  at  regular  intervals,  stout  bamboo 
uprights  are  erected,  and  to  these  the  horizontal 
cross  bamboos  are  strongly  lashed  with  fibre  and 
cane,  until  the  whole  framework  is  perfectly  rigid. 
To  the  cross  framework  the  potters  fix  down  a floor 
of  split  bamboo,  and  all  round  the  outer  edges  they 
wreathe  dried  grass  to  prevent  slipping  as  one  steps 
on  board.  This  platform  overlaps  all  round  the  raft 
fore  and  aft,  and  the  cross  pieces  are  very  strong  and 
firmly  lashed.  Openings  are  left  in  the  floor  above 
each  dug-out  to  enable  the  pottery  to  be  stored  in  the 
holds  of  the  canoes.  A clear  space  is  left  on  the  plat- 
form, extending  about  six  feet  from  bow  and  stern, 
and  on  the  whole  of  the  intervening  space  houses 
are  erected  in  skeleton  bamboo  framework.  These  can 

72 


CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 

be  entirely  covered  in  with  mats  to  afford  a shelter 
in  stormy  weather  or  in  rain.  The  roofs  as  well  as  the 
sides  are  formed  of  mats.  Wooden  masts  are  now 
stepped  amidships  and  held  in  place  with  stout  stays 
of  fibre,  and  then  the  lakatoi  is  ready  to  receive  its 
sails.  These  resemble  vast  kites,  and  were  formerly 
made  of  native  matting  stretched  upon  an  outer 
frame  of  bamboo,  but  are  now  made  of  calico.  It  is 
difficult  to  describe  their  form,  and  they  can  best 
be  understood  by  a study  of  the  accompanying 
illustration. 

Why  the  strange  segment  should  be  cut  out  of 
the  upper  part,  leaving  two  great  wings,  I have  never 
been  able  to  discover.  The  sails  of  the  lakatoi  are  of 
themselves — things  apart.  Being  stretched  on  a frame 
they  cannot  bulge,  but  swing  like  boards.  Their 
points  rest  on  the  deck  and  work  freely  in  a socket. 
The  sails  are  hung  lightly  to  the  masts  by  braces, 
and  there  is  no  clewing  up.  In  spite  of  their 
comparative  rigidity  they  are  quite  manageable,  and 
in  case  of  sudden  squalls  can  easily  be  let  go. 
The  lakatoi  is  now  ready  for  use — perhaps  the  most 
remarkable -looking  craft  that  ever  went  to  sea — 
and  has  only  to  be  tested.  From  the  rigging  and 
the  sails  float  long  streamers  of  Papuan  grass  deco- 
rations, and  the  fleet  of  eight  or  ten  lakatois  now 
lying  off  Hanuabada  affords,  as  the  sun  strikes  the 
brown  sails,  a really  charming  spectacle. 

Before  they  proceed  to  sea  the  careful  people 
institute  a trial  trip,  and  celebrate  a regatta  with 
several  days  of  extraordinary  festivity.  The  fleet  is 
sometimes  augmented  by  some  lakatois  from  other 

73 


CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 


villages.  These  sail  up  to  Port  Moresby  from  the 
east  to  join  the  main  expedition.  About  eleven 
o’clock  in  the  morning,  if  the  wind  be  strong 
enough,  the  people  of  Hanuabada  and  Elevada  begin 
to  test  each  vessel  in  the  harbour,  trying  how  the 
ropes  run,  how  the  sails  work,  and  how  the  lashings 
hold  together.  Everything  is  thoroughly  overhauled, 
for  the  lives  of  the  men  folk  of  the  village  depend 
upon  the  fitness  of  their  queer  craft.  The  crew  go 
on  board  and  take  up  their  positions.  At  the  bow 
stands  the  professional  pilot,  a man  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  coast,  and  behind  him,  stretch- 
ing in  Indian  file  down  the  gunwale  on  port  and 
starboard,  stand  his  crew,  each  man  handling  a long 
pole.  The  steering  is  done  from  behind  with  two 
poles  slightly  flattened  at  the  ends,  and  forward,  for 
certain  emergencies,  they  use  a small  Chinese  sweep. 
The  crew  pole  gently  out  from  land  until  the  breeze 
strikes  the  sails,  and  then  far  away  they  go  merrily 
down  the  harbour,  tacking  about  in  every  direction 
with  wonderful  dexterity,  for  the  lakatois,  clumsy 
although  they  appear,  are  quick  “ in  stays.” 

At  last  comes  the  day  when  the  Hanuabada  people 
say,  “ If  the  wind  is  favourable,  we  will  start  to- 
morrow.” Vast  quantities  of  farinaceous  food  are 
brought  on  board,  and  the  small  dug-outs  are  busy 
darting  out  from  the  village  to  the  fleet,  bearing  the 
stores  that  are  to  last  the  voyagers  for  their  two 
months’  trip.  Then  the  festivities  begin.  The 
damsels  of  the  village  deck  themselves  most  artisti- 
cally with  finely  woven  garlands  that  lie  in  close 
cinctures  round  their  brows.  In  most  ravishing 

74 


GIRLS  DANCING  ON  A LAKATOI  (A  RAFT  OF  CANOES), 


CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 


ramis  they  go  on  board  and  celebrate  the  departure 
of  the  young  braves  by  the  wildest  dances  on  the 
platforms  fore  and  aft — dances  that  would  put  a 
premiere  danseuse  to  shame.  They  spin  round  with 
such  dizzying  rapidity  that,  when  I photographed 
them,  although  I used  a shutter  snapping  at  a 
hundredth  of  a second,  the  image  of  the  dancers 
was  somewhat  blurred,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  an- 
nexed picture.  As  an  accompaniment  to  the  dances, 
they  sing  the  appalling  and  discordant  songs  of  the 
coast  native,  and  the  merriment  and  motion  cease 
only  for  the  intervals  of  feasting  on  yams,  taro,  and 
fish.  The  dancing  is  for  the  most  part  independent, 
but  occasionally  there  is  some  attempt  at  rudimentary 
figures,  and  the  little  girls,  with  arms  interlaced 
after  the  manner  of  a “ lady’s  chain  ” in  the  Lancers, 
form  a ring  in  the  centre,  while  the  bigger  girls  circle 
around. 

Some  of  the  young  braves  sleep  on  board  the  last 
night,  and  the  next  day  at  dawn,  if  the  wind  should 
be  favourable,  a start  is  made.  The  last  good-byes 
are  said,  the  small  canoes  dart  to  and  from  the  shore 
with  final  messages,  and  as  the  great  lakatois  slowly 
get  under  way,  the  girls  crowd  upon  the  beach,  shout- 
ing and  waving  to  their  young  heroes,  until  the  last 
odd-shaped  sail  has  disappeared  round  the  farthest 
promontory.  The  men  of  the  village  will  not  be  seen 
again  for  two  months,  and  some  perhaps  not  at  all,  for 
the  voyage  is  long  and  beset  with  divers  perils,  and 
not  every  lakatoi  weathers  the  sudden  treacherous 
squalls  and  storms  of  the  Papuan  coast. 

Their  captains,  of  course,  have  no  knowledge  what- 

77 


CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 


ever  of  the  science  of  navigation,  and  sail  their  vessels 
by  cross  bearings,  or — when  out  of  sight  of  land — by 
sheer  instinct. 

During  the  whole  time  that  the  traders  are  absent, 
gloom  reigns  in  Hanuabada.  At  nightfall  the  de- 
solate women  bar  themselves  into  their  houses,  and 
remain  in  the  most  jealous  seclusion  until  the  daylight 
reappears.  It  is  a most  unflattering  reflection  that 
this  custom  has  only  arisen  since  Europeans  first  came 
to  Papua. 

From  Port  Moresby  I intended  to  go  sixty  miles 
westward  to  Yule  Island,  and  thence  push  into  the 
interior  of  British  New  Guinea,  where  I proposed  to 
pursue  the  special  scientific  work  for  which  my  expe- 
dition had  been  undertaken.  The  point  which  I 
intended  to  use  as  my  centre  of  operations  would 
require  a journey  up  country  of  at  least  three  weeks’ 
duration,  through  an  almost  unknown  region,  where 
only  native  paths  existed,  or,  at  the  best,  a missionary 
road  extending  for  a short  distance.  Wheeled  traffic 
was,  of  course,  impossible,  and  everything  would  have 
to  be  transported  by  carriers.  The  first  necessity  was, 
therefore,  to  procure  transport,  a work  of  infinite  diffi- 
culty ; but  at  last,  chiefly  through  the  great  assistance 
and  courtesy  of  Mr.  Hislop,  then  resident  magistrate  of 
the  district  of  Mekeo,  sixty  miles  west  of  Port  Moresby, 
I obtained  a sufficient  number  of  carriers.  Mr. 
Hislop  then  took  the  trouble  to  go  as  far  inland  with 
me  as  our  first  halting-place,  Epa,  in  order  to  help 
me  and  to  use  his  influence  to  persuade  the  natives 
to  give  me  their  services.  The  gross  weight  of  the 
baggage  to  be  carried  must  have  been,  at  least, 

78 


CHANGES  AND  STRANGE  SCENES 


2000  lbs.,  and  it  consisted  first  and  foremost  of  what 
is  technically  known  as  “trade,”  that  is,  beads,  axes, 
1 8-inch  knives,  9-inch  knives,  6-inch  knives,  tobacco, 
looking-glasses,  red  calico,  bright  - coloured  cotton 
prints,  plane-irons  for  axe-heads,  Jew’s-harps — for 
which  a Papuan  will  do  almost  anything — and,  most 
valued  of  all,  dogs’  teeth.  In  addition  to  this,  I had 
to  carry  the  whole  of  my  apparatus  for  collecting — 100 
nets,  60  to  70  cyanide  bottles  and  enough  cyanide  of 
potassium  to  poison  the  whole  population  of  New 
Guinea,  store  boxes,  pins,  cork  bungs,  and  lamps.  I 
had  also  a complete  photographic  equipment. 

For  our  own  sustenance  we  carried  a great 
quantity  of  tinned  provisions,  and  enough  rice  to 
feed  our  carriers  for  the  journey  both  ways.  I ought 
not  to  omit  to  mention  our  tents,  another  heavy 
item  of  transport.  For  arms  we  had  our  12-bores, 
our  revolvers,  one  Winchester  repeating  rifle,  and 
one  Winchester  repeating  shot-gun,  with  sufficient 
ammunition.  We  also  carried  a store  of  empty 
cartridge  cases,  recappers,  loose  powder,  shot,  and 
caps,  extractors  and  refillers.  Before  setting  out  it 
was  necessary  to  make  bags  of  stout  canvas,  sewn 
with  twine  and  fortified  with  two  coats  of  paint. 
Into  these  all  our  baggage  was  packed,  and  each 
bundle  was  duly  numbered. 


79 


CHAPTER  IV 

WE  STRIKE  INLAND 

We  start  Inland — Friendly  Natives  but  Hostile  Mosquitoes — 
Bioto  Creek — Bioto — Guest  Houses — A Splendid  Game  Region 
— Daily  Migration  of  Flocks  of  Pigeons — Greedy  Coast  Natives 
— Carriers  Inadequate — A Double  Journey  in  Relays — We  meet 
the  Chief  Mavai,  a great  Papuan  Character — Mavai’s  Way  of 
Life — His  Harem — His  Western  Notions — His  Trousers — His 
Red  Coat — His  Severe  Discipline — As  we  proceed,  Construction 
of  Native  Houses  more  elaborate — On  to  Ekeikei  and  Dinawa 
— March  through  Wet  Vegetation— Tortured  by  Leeches  and 
an  Abominable  Parasite,  the  Scrub- Itch — A Gloomy  Forest 
— Magnificent  Orchids  — Carriers  stimulate  Laggard  Com- 
rades with  Nettles  — The  Aculama  River — I discover  a 
New  Fish. 


CHAPTER  IV 


WE  STRIKE  INLAND 

We  left  Yule  Island  at  io  a.m.  in  a small  boat, 
accompanied  by  two  Mission  Fathers.  Our  baggage 
came  on  with  us  at  the  same  time  in  a rough  boat. 
We  reached  the  mouth  of  the  river  at  noon,  and 
found  some  natives  there  fishing.  They  were  very 
friendly  and  gave  us  some  fish.  At  that  point  the 
entrance  to  the  river  was  about  half  a mile  broad, 
but  across  it  there  was  a big  bar.  At  2 p.m.  we 
had  entered  the  Bioto  Creek,  where  we  suffered  tre- 
mendously from  mosquitoes.  Here,  in  fact,  they  are 
quite  a terror,  and  this  is  believed  to  be  the  very 
worst  place  for  mosquitoes  in  all  New  Guinea.  During 
the  first  night  that  we  halted  there  I had  not  fixed 
my  net  properly,  so  I slept  very  little  owing  to  the 
annoyance  of  these  insects.  It  is  an  unhealthy  spot, 
and  fever  rages.  The  village  is  very  small,  containing 
only  nineteen  houses  for  the  regular  inhabitants,  and 
two  houses,  one  at  each  end,  for  visitors.  This  pro- 
vision for  the  stranger  within  their  gates  is  a general 
custom  in  every  Papuan  village.  Despite  this  form 
of  hospitality,  however,  the  Bioto  people  are  not  very 
amiable,  and  I found  them  extremely  greedy.  The 
region  is  a perfect  one  for  game,  especially  for  duck 
and  pigeon.  Every  evening  one  sees  clouds  of 
pigeons  flying  over  the  sea  from  the  mainland  to 

83  E 


WE  STRIKE  INLAND 

Pigeon  Island.  In  the  morning  they  return.  This 
migration  is  to  secure  safety,  as  Pigeon  Island  is 
uninhabited,  and  in  its  mangrove  swamps  the  birds 
know  that  they  can  sleep  unmolested.  After  a night’s 
rest,  such  as  it  was,  we  prepared  to  start  again,  but 
found  the  natives  somewhat  unwilling  to  go  on.  At 
length  they  agreed  to  take  us  by  canoe  as  far  as 
the  path  to  Epa,  about  ten  miles  from  the  Bioto 
Creek,  and  from  that  place  they  would  take  us  five 
miles  by  road  to  Jack’s  camp,  which  was  six  miles 
distant  from  Epa.  For  this  journey  they  demanded 
an  absurd  price — each  carrier  wanted  a 1 6-inch  knife, 
a tomahawk,  or  a pearl-shell — and  in  this  extra- 
vagant rating  of  their  services  they  showed  them- 
selves typical  coast  natives.  The  mountain  people 
would  have  done  the  same  work  for  one  stick  of 
tobacco.  Before  we  had  come  to  terms  the  day  had 
worn  away,  and  it  was  necessary  to  remain  another 
night  at  Bioto.  Next  morning  we  were  up  early, 
and  by  the  time  we  had  breakfasted,  the  carriers, 
fifteen  in  all,  who  had  come  from  their  gardens  the 
night  before,  were  ready  to  take  up  their  burdens. 
The  number  available  was  still  inadequate,  but  as 
no  more  were  to  be  had  we  had  to  make  up  our  minds 
to  a double  journey.  We  stayed  the  night  at  Jack’s 
camp,  sending  on  a messenger  to  Epa  to  ask  the  chief 
Mavai  to  bring  his  people  down  the  next  day.  By 
ten  o’clock  the  next  morning  Mavai  had  not  arrived, 
so  we  decided  to  walk  to  Epa  and  see  him,  at  the 
same  time  hoping  that  we  might  meet  him  by  the 
way.  We  took  Sam  (my  Cingalese  servant)  with  us, 
and  as  there  were  two  tracks,  he  took  one  and  I the 

84 


El’ A VILLAGE,  MAVAl’S  CAPITAL. 


WE  STRIKE  INLAND 

other,  each  arranging  to  fire  a gun  if  either  should 
meet  Mavai.  As  it  happened  we  met  Mavai  most 
opportunely  just  where  the  two  tracks  met,  and  Sam, 
who  had  only  gone  a few  yards,  was  with  us  in  a 
minute.  Mavai  explained  that,  as  it  was  already  late 
in  the  day,  he  would  not  call  his  people  together,  but 
would  make  arrangements  for  them  to  carry  for  us  on 
the  following  day. 

Mavai,  the  chief  of  Epa,  is  a magnificent  autocrat, 
and  is  proud  to  be  the  white  man’s  friend.  He  was 
credited  with  powers  of  sorcery — hence  his  extra- 
ordinary influence.  He  overshadowed  me  with  his 
favour,  and  commanded  his  entire  village  to  “ carry 
for  Parki  ” — the  Epan  attempt  to  pronounce  my  name. 
Thus  I obtained  the  force  I required  to  take  me  on- 
wards, and  I went,  one  might  almost  say,  on  the 
shoulders  of  Epa — men,  women,  and  children.  The 
chief  himself  shouldered  a load,  without  loss  of  dig- 
nity, and  with  great  advantage  to  his  royal  pocket. 

My  princely  benefactor  was  no  ordinary  man.  He 
stood  about  six  feet  high.  His  features  were  of 
Roman  type,  his  bearing  active  and  alert,  his  frame 
strong  and  wiry.  Keen  eyes  looked  out  of  a dark 
copper-coloured  visage,  which  gained  by  contrast  with 
a scarlet  coat — a discarded  British  uniform,  his  only 
ceremonial  garment,  donned  on  occasions  of  great 
gravity.  Such  an  occasion  was  the  issuing  of  his 
command  to  carry  for  me.  With  due  ceremony  he 
mounted  a platform  erected  near  his  house,  and 
assuming  the  red  coat  he  addressed  his  assembled 
people  with  magnificent  oratory,  emphasising  his 
speech  by  actions.  Mavai  is  a strict  disciplinarian, 

87 


WE  STRIKE  INLAND 


and  I have  seen  him  administer  personal  chastisement 
to  recalcitrant  villagers.  He  is  a mighty  hunter,  a 
fact  attested  by  his  crushed  right  hand,  which 
was  maimed  by  a bite  from  a wild  pig.  Our 
friend  is  a great  polygamist,  and  formerly  had 
fifteen  wives.  When  we  were  there  at  Epa  he  pos- 
sessed only  five,  to  whom  he  was  extremely  kind, 
although  he  made  them  work  pretty  hard.  One  of 
them  was  specially  appointed  to  wait  upon  her  lord 
at  his  meals.  On  the  death  of  another  he  was 

deeply  affected,  and  cut  off  his  mop  of  hair.  He 
kept  up  considerable  state,  and  at  meal-times  sat  in 
his  house  in  a different  apartment  from  that  in  which 
he  slept.  He  was  not  above  taking  food  with  us, 
and  used  to  ask  for  tobacco  in  a very  lordly  way. 
He  smoked  a European  pipe,  of  which  he  was  par- 
ticularly proud,  and  when  it  was  between  his  lips 
he  used  to  touch  the  bowl  consequentially  and  say, 
“ Parki,”  thus  signifying  to  me  that  he  was  no  small 
beer.  He  would  pay  the  deepest  attention  through- 
out a long  story,  looking  steadily  at  you,  and  when 
you  had  finished  he  would  tell  you  what  he  thought, 
giving  elaborate  reasons.  In  the  centre  of  his  house 
hung  a hurricane  lamp,  which  he  had  got  from  Jack 
Exton,  the  sandalwood  trader.  He  understood  the 
working  of  the  lamp  quite  well,  and  kept  a supply  of 
kerosene  in  the  house  in  a tin.  He  was  also  indebted 
to  Mr.  Exton  for  a further  adjunct  of  civilisation,  viz. 
a pair  of  trousers  very  unfashionably  big  at  the  knee. 
His  Highness  used  European  spoons,  forks,  and 
knives. 

Mavai  had  adopted  a coloured  orphan,  whom  he 

88 


WE  STRIKE  INLAND 

kept  under  very  strict  discipline.  This  youth  refused 
to  go  with  Sam  to  Oo-fa-fa,  and  when  the  chief  found 
out  that  his  express  orders  had  been  disobeyed,  he 
cut  off  a stick  and  thrashed  the  boy  indoors  for  all 
he  was  worth.  The  boy  received  ten  cuts,  but  neither 
moved  nor  howled,  although  the  women  of  the  village 
set  up  a dolorous  wailing  while  the  punishment  was 
going  on.  As  soon  as  the  castigation  was  finished, 
Mavai  seemed  to  be  seized  with  sudden  shamefaced- 
ness, for  he  ran  at  top  speed  to  his  sago  plantation, 
and  remained  in  retirement  for  a considerable  time. 

At  Epa  the  native  houses  begin  to  be  beautifully 
constructed.  They  are  on  a raised  platform,  and 
look  like  inverted  boats,  the  roof  being  formed  by 
bending  over  long  sticks,  so  as  to  form  an  arch  that 
is  thatched  with  sago  leaf.  The  floor  is  particularly 
good,  and  at  Epa  there  is  an  admirable  guest-house, 
with  a fine  level  floor  of  split  sago,  the  pieces  being 
inches  wide,  neatly  laid  and  bound  together. 

Mavai’s  guest-house,  which  adjoined  his  dwelling- 
house,  was  open  at  both  ends.  The  house  poles  are 
very  substantial,  for  they  are  driven  into  the  iron 
ground,  which  is  very  stony,  and  radiated  great  heat, 
so  that  one  could  not  go  comfortably  without  boots, 
although  in  this  respect  the  natives  seem  to  be 
pachydermatous. 

We  saw  Mavai’s  son  build  a house,  neither  asking 
nor  requiring  assistance.  Single-handed  he  brought 
up  his  poles,  peeled  off  the  bark,  and  drove  them  in. 

One  evening  during  our  stay  there  was  a terrific 
wind  storm,  a heavy  north-wester,  which  tried  the 
architecture  of  Epa  severely.  One  slender  house 

89 


WE  STRIKE  INLAND 


began  to  heel  over,  and  it  was  accordingly  tied  to  a 
tree  with  strands  of  cane,  and  a large  gang  of  men 
held  these  stays  until  the  worst  of  the  storm  was 
passed.  Even  Mavai’s  substantial  house  gave  way  a 
little  under  the  tempest. 

It  was  about  9.50  when  we  started  on  our  journey 
from  Epa  to  Ekeikei.  We  sent  twenty-five  carriers 
on  with  their  loads,  and  we  ourselves  followed 
with  the  remainder  of  the  baggage.  Of  course  we 
could  not  carry  everything  on  this  trip,  and  it  was 
my  intention,  when  we  finally  reached  our  destination 
at  Dinawa,  to  send  back  mountain  men  to  bring  the 
rest  of  the  material  up  the  forty  miles’  tramp  from 
Epa. 

At  first  the  path  led  downwards,  and  very  soon 
we  came  to  a small  river,  over  which — as  the  existing 
bamboo  bridge  was  unsafe  owing  to  a freshet — we 
had  to  be  carried  by  the  natives.  We  always  took 
great  care  to  avoid,  as  far  as  possible,  getting  our 
clothes  wet,  as  this  accident  renders  the  European 
traveller  particularly  liable  to  fever.  In  this  case, 
however,  this  precaution  proved  futile,  owing  to  the 
oncoming  of  a downpour  of  rain— the  last  we  were 
to  see  for  nine  months. 

At  times  the  brushwood  was  very  dense,  and  we 
had  to  cut  our  way,  but  where  the  forest  was  closely 
matted  above,  forming  a thick  canopy  which  excluded 
the  light,  nothing,  of  course,  could  grow  beneath. 
At  points  where  the  light  penetrated,  the  undergrowth 
was  immediately  thick  again.  The  path,  such  as  it 
was,  was  stony  and  hard.  As  we  trudged  along  in 
the  wet,  we  made  the  acquaintance  of  a new  discom- 

90 


EKEIKEI  NATIVES. 


WE  STRIKE  INLAND 

fort.  This  manifested  itself  in  the  presence  of  a 
leech,  a little  creature  about  f-inch  long,  with  a 
slender  body,  very  much  smaller  than  the  European 
variety,  but  inflicting  the  same  sort  of  three-cornered 
bite.  The  native  carriers  offer  the  easiest  victims, 
for  the  leeches  fasten  upon  their  bare  heels  in  great 
numbers,  and  they  had  constantly  to  stop  and  brush 
them  off  with  little  switches  which  they  carried  in 
their  hands.  Sometimes,  when  the  leeches  had  bitten 
very  deep,  the  carriers  had  to  lay  down  their  loads 
and  pull  them  off  with  their  fingers.  They  would 
endure  them  until  they  became  too  bad,  say,  when 
a dozen  or  so  had  adhered  to  each  foot.  At  this 
time  we  did  not  suffer  much,  but  later  on,  in  the 
journey  from  Faula  to  Mafulu,  they  got  over  the  tops 
of  our  boots  and  socks  and  attacked  our  ankles.  The 
bite  was  not  actually  painful,  and  the  presence  of 
our  enemy  was  not  revealed  until  we  realised  that 
our  feet  were  wet  with  blood.  The  chief  haunts  of 
the  leech  are  wet  stones  and  moss  and  low  herbage. 

Another  discomfort  which  we  experienced  at  this 
point  of  our  journey  was  the  abominable  attack  of 
the  scrub-itch,  a nasty  little  parasite  that  the  way- 
farer brushes  from  the  low  herbage  as  he  moves 
along.  This  hateful  microscopic  creature,  which  is 
of  a bright  red  colour,  gets  under  the  skin  and  causes 
terrible  irritation.  The  affection  spreads,  and  if  one 
is  so  unwise  as  to  scratch  the  place,  there  is  no 
hope  of  relief  for  at  least  three  weeks.  The  only 
satisfactory  remedy  is  to  bathe  the  part  in  warm 
salt  and  water.  Scrub  - itch,  leeches,  and  mos- 
quitoes at  times  render  life  in  the  forest  anything 

93 


WE  STRIKE  INLAND 


but  blissful,  yet  Nature,  according  to  her  law,  offers 
her  compensations,  even  in  the  primeval  forest. 

About  the  elevation  that  we  were  traversing  there 
grows  a particular  kind  of  palm,  peculiarly  grateful  to 
the  native  when  he  is  hungry — a not  infrequent  occur- 
rence— and  at  such  moments  of  stress  they  discard 
their  loads,  search  out  this  palm  and  cut  it  down. 
At  the  top,  just  below  the  crown  of  the  palm,  the 
last  shoot,  about  six  feet  long,  remains  green.  It  is 
opened  lengthways,  and  is  peeled  until  the  inside 
layers  are  reached.  These  layers  are  straw-coloured, 
like  asparagus,  and  to  the  taste  are  sweet,  slightly 
dashed  with  acid.  Europeans,  as  well  as  natives,  can 
eat  great  quantities  of  this  wholesome  and  en- 
joyable food  with  impunity.  It  is  excellent  also  for 
quenching  thirst,  for  which  it  is  often  most  convenient, 
as  it  grows  in  waterless  regions. 

The  gloom  of  the  forest  was  diversified  by  the 
colours  of  its  extraordinary  orchids.  One  of  these 
(grammatophyllum  speciosum),  which  had  made  its 
home  on  a lofty  tree,  was  of  almost  incredible  luxuri- 
ance, and  could  the  whole  plant  have  been  secured, 
it  would  not  have  weighed  less  than  half  a ton.  I 
despatched  one  of  my  native  boys  to  climb  the  tree 
to  see  if  he  could  secure  a specimen.  He  went  about 
his  task  in  the  native  fashion.  The  climber  stands 
with  his  face  to  the  trunk,  which,  as  well  as  his 
body,  is  encircled  with  a hoop  of  rattan  cane.  This 
hoop  he  holds  in  each  hand,  and  his  ankles  are  tied 
together.  First,  he  leans  back  until  his  body  has 
purchase  on  the  hoop,  and  then  at  that  moment,  by 
the  leverage  of  his  ankles,  he  makes  an  upward 

94 


WE  STRIKE  INLAND 


movement  of  about  a foot.  Then,  falling  backwards 
against  the  hoop,  and  pressing  his  feet  against  the 
trunk,  he  is  supported  for  the  next  spring.  This 
operation  is  repeated  with  marvellous  dexterity  and 
rapidity,  and  with  this  contrivance  the  youth  makes 
his  way  to  the  top.  There  is  no  tree  in  New  Guinea 
that  a native  cannot  climb  thus. 

In  the  present  instance,  my  man  was  not  destined 
to  have  any  luck,  for  the  network  of  roots  round  the 
tree  formed  such  a wide-spreading  dome  that  he  could 
not  make  his  way  over  to  the  crown  to  secure  a speci- 
men of  the  orchid,  and  the  attempt  had  accordingly 
to  be  abandoned. 

We  pressed  on  along  the  rough  track,  which  was 
everywhere  beset  with  precipices  and  ravines  that 
compelled  us  to  take  the  greatest  care.  The  road  was 
fairly  practicable,  however,  for  transit,  and  there  were 
no  very  serious  obstructions  at  this  stage  of  the  journey. 
My  people  were  in  good  spirits,  and  we  plodded  on 
as  gaily  as  might  be,  occasionally  stopping  and  giving 
the  men  a smoke.  Despite  the  toils  of  the  road, 
these  halts  in  the  forest  were  perfectly  delightful,  for 
we  had  in  the  improvement  of  the  air  a foretaste  of 
the  pleasant  freshness  that  was  to  make  life  in  the 
mountains  of  New  Guinea  so  tolerable  and  even 
attractive. 

After  five  hours’  march  we  arrived  at  Ekeikei, 
rather  tired  and  ready  for  slumber,  but  here,  alas  ! 
there  was  no  rest  for  us.  The  native  carriers  had 
to  lodge,  some  in  our  hut,  some  under  it,  and  their 
method  of  spending  the  night  was  not  favourable  to 
repose.  Their  idea  is  to  sleep  for  half-an-hour,  and 

95 


WE  STRIKE  INLAND 


then  light  their  pipes  and  spin  yarns,  which,  to  judge 
by  their  uproarious  laughter,  must  have  been  ex- 
tremely diverting.  After  the  story-telling,  they  obliged 
us  with  songs,  and  the  music  wooed  them  again  to  a 
brief  period  of  slumber.  It  did  not  woo  us,  for  the 
coast  natives  have  no  ear,  and  their  music  is  very 
unlike  the  soft  and  flowing  song  of  the  mountaineers. 
This  performance  went  on  until  daybreak,  when  we 
rose.  In  order  to  make  a satisfactory  day’s  journey 
it  was  necessary  to  start  at  5 a.m.  We  had  to  prepare 
our  own  breakfast  and  give  the  natives  theirs,  and 
then  we  set  out  for  Madui. 

Again,  the  path  wound  past  high  precipices  and 
deep  ravines  until  we  came  to  our  first  resting-place, 
Bamboo  Camp,  so  called  from  a clump  of  bamboo  that 
formed  a natural  shelter.  Here  the  forest  trees  were 
so  high  and  thick  that  scarcely  any  sun  or  light  could 
penetrate.  It  was  gloomy  in  the  extreme,  and  very 
depressing,  the  silence  broken  only  by  the  drip,  drip 
of  the  rain,  and  the  only  sound  of  life  was  the  “ wauk,” 
“ wauk  ” of  the  bird  of  paradise. 

For  two  hours  the  track  skirted  the  Deeanay 
precipice,  and  our  way  led  under  enormous  over- 
hanging boulders  which  would  reach  out  some  distance 
overhead.  These  were  the  more  impressive  in  that 
they  seemed  to  have  no  hold,  and  the  imagination 
made  teasing  suggestions  as  to  what  would  happen  if 
one  of  them  were  to  topple  over.  From  the  crevices 
little  springs  issued,  and  in  these  damp  nooks  there 
was  a luxuriant  growth  of  lichens  and  begonias  in 
flower.  While  accomplishing  the  long  circumvention 
of  the  crags,  it  was  impossible  to  obtain  a view  of 

96 


THE  CAMP  AT  EKEIKEI. 


WE  STRIKE  INLAND 


the  Deeanay,  but  as  we  broke  out  into  more  open 
forest,  close  to  Madui,  one  could  form  some  idea  of  its 
rocky  magnificence. 

Close  to  the  Deeanay  precipice  we  noted  an  extraor- 
dinary sight.  Under  a large  tree  that  rose  to  a height 
of  some  150  feet,  were  huge  mounds,  quite  five  feet 
high,  of  veritable  sawdust,  that  seemed  to  proclaim 
the  presence  of  man.  On  a nearer  approach  the 
wonder  became  greater,  for  the  heaps  were  being  con- 
tinually augmented  by  a constant  rain  of  sawdust  of 
different  grains,  some  finer  than  others.  No  human 
sawyer,  of  course,  was  there,  but  the  tree,  to  a height 
of  at  least  100  feet,  was  riddled  by  coleopterous  larvse. 
Several  families  of  these  were  represented.  The  tree, 
which  was  about  five  feet  in  diameter,  and  had  a thin 
bark,  was,  as  might  be  expected,  dying.  It  must  have 
possessed  some  strange  attraction,  for  it  was  most  un- 
usual in  New  Guinea  to  find  beetles  thus  congregated. 
The  distribution  is  usually  very  scattered.  The  holes 
were  probably  made  at  first  by  small  beetles  of  various 
families,  but  chiefly  anobiadae,  followed  as  a rule  by 
brenthidse,  later  probably  by  longicorniae.  One  species 
follows  the  other  into  the  same  hole,  each  succeeding 
species  bigger  than  its  predecessor.  Sometimes  the 
lepidoptera  make  borings,  but  this  sawdust  was  much 
finer.  Only  a few  living  branches  remained  on  the 
tree,  which  was  a mere  shell.  It  was,  however, 
so  well  protected  from  winds  that  it  still  stood. 
Close  by  we  saw  a native  hut,  uninhabited,  of  very 
rude  construction.  This  point  of  our  journeyings 
is  otherwise  memorable,  for  it  was  here,  near  a 
creek,  that  we  found  some  of  our  finest  butterflies — 

99 


WE  STRIKE  INLAND 

lycenidse,  papiliosidae,  satyridae,  and  ornithoptera 
primus. 

We  were  glad  to  continue  the  ascent  to  Madui, 
where  once  more  we  emerged  into  the  welcome  light 
of  the  sun.  When  we  were  two  hours’  distance  from 
Madui,  one  of  our  carriers  struck  work  and  refused  to 
go  any  farther.  There  was  only  one  way  of  persuasion, 
to  which  I was  greatly  averse,  but  his  comrades  con- 
sidered it  necessary,  and  their  method,  which  was,  after 
all,  not  very  harsh,  had  the  desired  effect.  The  other 
carriers  picked  the  leaves  of  a gigantic  nettle,  and 
with  these  they  gently  whipped  the  reluctant  one  until 
he  was  fain  to  “jog  on  the  footpath  way,  and  merrily 
hent  the  stile  a’.”  A little  later,  he  tried  to  desert, 
but  his  comrades  brought  him  back,  and  when  we 
halted  he  was  kept  in  the  centre  of  the  camp  under 
strict  surveillance.  When  he  had  had  a good  rest 
and  a hearty  meal,  however,  he  went  on  as  cheerfully 
as  the  others. 

We  reached  the  foot  of  Madui  Hill  at  3.30  p.m., 
and  a climb  of  half-an-hour  brought  us  to  the  summit, 
which  commands  a fine  view.  On  a clear  day  Hall 
Sound  is  visible  on  the  coast  side,  and  inland  there 
is  a grand  prospect  of  mountain  scenery.  All  the  way 
up  it  had  rained  incessantly,  and  we  were  drenched 
to  the  skin.  Our  journey  over  rocks  and  precipices, 
watercourses  and  ravines,  had  completely  tired  us  out, 
and,  fortunately,  the  natives  were  too  fatigued  to  sing. 
Accordingly,  we  contrived  to  get  a good  night’s  rest, 
and  did  not  leave  Madui  until  9.25  a.m.  next  day. 

Getting  under  weigh  again,  we  descended  from 
Madui  into  a ravine,  where  we  passed  a delightful 

100 


THE  RETURN  OF  MY  COLLECTORS  WITH  IjIRDS  OF  PARADISE  AFTER  A FEW  HOURS'  SHOOTING  AT  EKEIKEI. 


WE  STRIKE  INLAND 


waterfall,  far  away  up  on  the  precipices  of  the  river 
Aculama,  which  we  were  to  know  better  during  our 
stay  in  New  Guinea.  The  waterfall  was  on  one  of 
the  tributaries  of  a little  river,  which  we  could  see  far 
below  us  rushing  over  its  rocky  bed  in  small  cataracts 
that  alternated  with  still  blue  pools.  The  trees  in 
the  ravine  were  loaded  with  lycopodiums  and  ferns, 
and,  in  their  season,  a few  rhododendrons.  The  cluster 
of  flowers  was  like  a golden  ball  the  size  of  a man’s 
head.  On  a later  journey  I secured  the  root,  but  it 
died  before  I could  get  it  down  to  the  coast  for  ship- 
ment. These  rhododendrons  did  not  grow  alone,  but 
attached  themselves  to  tree  trunks. 

Another  curiosity  of  the  Aculama  was  a large 
fresh-water  prawn,  of  which  I got  wind  from  the 
natives’  talk.  As  soon  as  I heard  it  mentioned,  I 
told  my  boys  that  if  they  could  bring  me  a specimen 
I would  pay  well  for  it,  and  also  for  examples  of 
the  fish  of  the  Aculama.  They  accordingly  went  in 
quest  of  the  crustacean,  and  before  long  they  brought 
me  a specimen.  The  prawn  haunts  the  eddies  under 
the  large  boulders,  around  which  the  natives  draw 
their  net  so  as  to  lie  close  to  the  shape  of  the  stone. 
They  then  pull  it  out  of  the  water  gradually,  and 
occasionally  find  that  they  have  caught  one  or  two 
specimens.  The  variety  is  about  5 inches  long,  of 
a transparent  brown  when  caught,  very  much  like 
our  British  prawns,  and  when  cooked  of  a rich  red. 
The  pincers  and  legs  are  longer  than  those  of  the 
marine  species.  They  make  delightful  morsels,  and 
are  a welcome  addition  to  the  explorer’s  larder,  which 
provides  changes  none  too  many. 

103 


WE  STRIKE  INLAND 


In  the  waters  of  the  Aculama  I had  also  the 
good  fortune  to  discover  an  entirely  new  fish,  the 
rhiacichthys  Novce  Guinea,  which  has  been  described 
by  Mr.  Boulenger,  and  I am  permitted  to  print  his 
account  in  the  Appendix. 


104 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  FIRST  CAMP 

Journey  continued — A Glorious  Scarlet  Creeper — Dinawa — 
Site  for  Camp  selected — Building  Camp — Native  Assistance — 
Organisation  for  Scientific  Work — Daily  Routine — Teaching 
the  Natives  how  to  Catch  and  Handle  Entomological  Speci- 
mens— Sudden  Affluence  leads  one  of  my  Native  Boys  to 
Desert — He  is  Caught  and  Reformed — My  best  Native 
Assistant  and  his  Wife — Female  Influence  a great  Asset  with 
other  Women  — The  Day’s  Work — Collecting  at  Night  — 
Photography — A Dark  Room  in  the  Wilds — Native  Interest 
in  Developing. 


CHAPTER  V 


THE  FIRST  CAMP 

To  return,  however,  to  our  journey.  We  crossed  the 
Aculama  by  a missionary  bridge,  a rough  structure 
made  of  two  trees  placed  about  a couple  of  feet 
apart,  and  laid  with  cross  strips  of  wood.  At  once 
we  began  our  climb  to  Dinawa  up  a winding  forest 
path — the  last  stage  of  the  march  which  was  to 
bring  us  to  our  permanent  camp.  I was  always  on 
the  lookout  for  natural  treasures,  and  when  we  got 
to  the  top  of  the  ridge  just  beyond  the  Aculama,  I 
was  fortunate  enough  to  see  in  a ravine  just  below  a 
magnificent  example  of  D’Alberti’s  creeper.  D’Alberti 
had  discovered  it  on  the  Fly  River.  The  one  I found 
here  in  the  mountains  was  of  the  variety  named 
Macuna  Bennetti.  It  ran  up  its  supporting  trunk 
on  a stem  which  was  about  6 inches  thick  at  the 
base.  At  the  height  of  200  feet  it  found  light, 
threw  out  slender  arms,  and  then  dropped  down 
bunches  of  festoons  20  feet  long,  a magnificent  blaze 
of  scarlet  blossom.  The  flowers  of  the  Macuna 
Bennetti  are  distinguished  by  a calyx  covered  with 
short  hairs,  some  short  and  pliable,  a few  stiff. 
When  we  reached  the  top  of  Dinawa  Hill  we  found 
patches  of  grass  growing,  which  did  not  occur  any- 
where on  the  lower  slopes. 

We  at  once  set  about  selecting  a piece  of  ground 

107  F 


THE  FIRST  CAMP 


for  our  camp,  and  found  a level,  grassy  space,  which 
required  only  the  cutting  of  a few  trees  to  make  it 
clear  enough  for  our  purpose.  There  was,  however, 
very  little  brushwood  to  cut.  Pending  the  building 
of  a more  permanent  home,  we  pitched  our  tent  and 
settled  down  for  the  first  night  at  our  base  of  opera- 
tions. Dinawa  village  was  fifty  yards  away,  and  the 
native  men  came  timidly  out  to  look  at  us.  They 
were  very  suspicious,  and  their  womenkind  so  shy 
that  it  was  a considerable  time  before  they  would 
venture  to  approach  our  camp. 

The  day  after  our  arrival  the  carriers  went  back, 
and  it  was  to  the  Papuans  of  the  vicinity  that  we 
had  to  look  for  the  labour  that  was  to  build  our 
house.  My  Cingalese  servant,  Sam,  spoke  the  lan- 
guage, and  he  made  the  overtures  to  our  dusky 
neighbours.  We  were  careful  to  let  them  get  some 
inkling  of  the  “trade”  we  carried,  and  this  seemed 
to  encourage  them  to  greater  boldness.  Occasionally 
we  would  open  a box  in  front  of  our  visitors  and 
show  them  an  axe  or  a knife,  whereat  they  would 
say  “lo-pi-ang,”  that  is,  “good,”  the  first  word,  pro- 
bably, that  a European  would  hear  from  the  lips  of 
a Papuan.  A little  present  of  tobacco  would  help 
matters  greatly,  and  in  return  for  this  the  beneficiary 
would  say  with  the  ingratiating  guilelessness  of  a 
child,  “ Parki  lo-pi-ang”  (good  Pratt).  In  time  the 
neighbouring  villages,  hearing  of  the  vast  wealth  that 
had  arrived  at  Dinawa,  came  in  too,  and  I was  able 
to  engage  a force  of  workers,  whose  numbers  varied 
from  ten  to  fifteen,  and  who  commenced  immediately 
to  build  my  house.  These  were  to  be  paid  when 

108 


HILL  NATIVES  AT  DINAWA. 


THE  FIRST  CAMP 


the  house  was  finished  ; but  during  the  ten  days  that 
the  building  was  going  on  they  were  given  occasional 
supplies  of  tobacco  as  a gratuity.  The  average  wage 
per  day  was  three  sticks  of  tobacco,  or  one  rami,  which 
would  mean  about  yards  of  scarlet  calico.  At 
the  end  of  the  time  each  man  was  to  receive  a large 
1 8-inch  knife,  or  an  axe,  and  a certain  number  of 
sticks  of  tobacco. 

For  our  house,  we  first  drove  into  the  ground  two 
stout  poles  1 8 feet  apart.  These  carried  the  main 
beam  of  the  roof.  At  a distance  of  6 feet  on  each 
side  of  these  poles  we  placed  the  corner  supports  of 
the  house,  each  12  feet  high.  The  framework  was 
then  joined  up  with  poles  of  unsplit  bamboo  tied 
with  split  cane,  and  the  framework  of  the  walls  con- 
sisted of  upright  pieces  of  split  bamboo  set  in  the 
ground  1 foot  apart.  We  then  wattled  these  uprights 
with  smaller  pieces  of  split  bamboo,  the  sides  and 
gables  of  the  house  forming  a complete  basket-work. 
From  the  ridge-pole  we  dropped  bamboo  rafters  ex- 
tending far  beyond  the  walls,  so  as  to  give  very  wide 
eaves,  and  throw  the  drip  of  the  rain  as  far  out  as 
possible.  We  were  now  ready  to  thatch  the  roof, 
and  for  this  we  required  large  quantities  of  grass. 
The  natives  by  this  time  had  gained  sufficient  con- 
fidence in  us  to  allow  their  women  to  work  for  us, 
and  accordingly  I employed  ten  women  as  grass- 
cutters,  and  kept  them  for  several  days  at  work  cut- 
ting with  6-inch  knives,  which  we  supplied.  They 
had  no  distance  to  go  to  find  sufficient  grass  for  our 
purpose,  but  the  procuring  of  heavier  poles  and 
bamboo  was  a different  matter.  The  wood  had  to 


1 1 1 


THE  FIRST  CAMP 


be  cut  at  a point  some  distance  down  the  hill,  and 
it  took  quite  three  hours  to  bring  up  each  of  the 
heavier  logs.  When  the  roof  was  on  we  nailed  down 
our  floor,  which  was  made  of  bamboo  fixed  to  cross- 
pieces 6 inches  off  the  ground.  The  material  was  not 
ideal,  for  the  joints  were  never  closed,  and  small 
articles  used  to  fall  down  into  the  cracks.  We 
made  our  door  frame  of  axed  wood  and  covered 
it  with  thick  canvas. 

We  had  also  to  build  our  collecting  verandah, 
which  we  placed  on  the  edge  of  a precipice  not  far 
from  the  house.  It  had  a 20-foot  frontage,  and  was 
12  feet  wide,  with  a division  down  the  centre  at  the 
ridge-pole  of  the  roof,  which  made  it,  properly  speak- 
ing, two  verandahs  placed  back  to  back,  so  that  when 
the  wind  was  unfavourable  on  one  side,  we  could  find 
shelter  on  the  other.  The  whole  of  the  structure  was 
raised  off  the  ground  on  poles,  and  the  boys  had  their 
quarters  beneath. 

Such  was  our  establishment  at  Dinawa.  When 
we  had  finished  it  we  began  to  settle  down,  and  were 
able  to  organise  the  camp  for  work.  A native  boy 
called  Doboi,  from  near  Dinawa  village,  was  engaged 
as  cook,  and  we  had  also  a water-boy,  Matu,  whose 
duty  was  to  go  down  the  hill,  a tramp  of  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour,  to  a beautiful  spring  whence 
we  derived  our  supply.  It  was  lovely  water,  for  the 
declivity  gave  no  opportunity  for  decomposing  vege- 
table matter  to  collect.  The  well  always  ran  clear, 
and,  even  at  the  worst  part  of  the  drought,  did  not 
fail  us  altogether,  although  its  trickle  had  sunk  to 
the  size  of  an  ordinary  lead-pencil,  and  the  boy  had 

1 12 


THE  FIRST  CAMP 

to  wait  quite  a long  time  before  he  could  fill  the 
billies. 

We  built  our  fire  outside  the  house  iu  the  open 
space,  gipsy  fashion,  and  hung  the  billy,  in  which  we 
did  all  our  cooking,  on  a stick  resting  on  two  forked 
upright  sticks.  Gradually  our  working  day  fell  into 
a regular  routine.  We  awoke  with  the  dawn,  but 
had  always  to  trust  to  ourselves  to  make  the  first 
start,  as  your  Papuan  will  not  wake  a sleeping  man. 
He  has  indeed  a superstitious  awe  of  the  slumberer. 
If  one  must  be  awakened,  it  must  not  be  by  a shake, 
and  when  Doboi  had  advanced  far  enough  to  bring 
us  a cup  of  tea  in  the  morning,  he  would  tread  very 
warily. 

When  we  were  fairly  astir,  we  found  Doboi  already 
about  and  the  fire  going.  Then  he  would  make  tea 
while  Harry  or  I baked  cakes.  The  bread  rises  easily 
in  New  Guinea  owing  to  the  temperature,  and  we 
were  never  at  a loss  for  yeast ; for  I had  brought 
with  me  a small  quantity  of  hops,  and  we  kept  our 
supply  going  by  keeping  back  a piece  of  dough  from 
every  batch.  This  fragment,  no  bigger  than  a pocket 
matchbox,  we  placed  in  an  ordinary  pound  tin,  and 
by  noon  it  had  swelled  right  over  the  edges.  We 
breakfasted  on  bread  and  dripping  of  pig,  when  we 
had  been  able  to  buy  one  from  the  natives,  and  some- 
times we  substituted  coffee  for  tea.  By  seven  o’clock 
breakfast  w7as  finished,  the  boys  having  had  theirs 
under  the  verandah.  It  was  then  time  for  them  to 
be  off  to  their  collecting,  but  they  were  difficult  to 
move.  They  wanted  to  sit  and  smoke.  Once  off, 
they  might  do  a day’s  work,  but  on  the  other  hand 

“3 


THE  FIRST  CAMP 


there  was  just  the  chance  that  they  would  waste  their 
employer’s  time  in  the  forest,  smoking  and  telling 
stories ; or,  if  they  had  killed  and  caught  any- 
thing, they  would  immediately  sit  down  and  cook 
it.  If  this  happened  they  would  come  home  empty- 
handed,  quite  shamelessly,  saying  “awpapoo  achi”  (no 
butterflies). 

Each  boy  was  supplied  with  a large  butterfly  net 
and  collecting  box.  In  every  box  we  stuck  a certain 
number  of  pins,  and  told  the  boy  that  if  he  filled  his 
box  with  good  specimens  he  would  receive  a stick  of 
tobacco.  Bad  specimens  I always  discarded  in  the 
culprit’s  presence,  so  that  his  iniquity  might  come 
home  to  him.  I had,  of  course,  to  undertake  the 
training  of  the  collectors  myself,  although  Sam  helped 
to  explain  the  method. 

First,  I got  a butterfly  and  showed  how  to  handle 
it  and  pin  it  sideways  into  the  box.  The  crucial 
matter  was  the  seizing  of  it  once  it  was  in  the  net. 
It  must  be  carefully  taken  between  finger  and  thumb 
and  the  thorax  pinched  on  the  under-side.  If  it  be 
pinched  from  above  — as  every  butterfly  collector 
knows — the  operator’s  finger-marks  would  show  on 
the  wings  and  betray  slovenly  handling.  Some  of 
the  boys  became  very  neat-fingered  after  a time,  but 
others  would  not  learn  at  all,  and  were  so  shameless 
that  they  would  bring  in  part  of  a wing  carefully 
stuck  on  the  pin — in  fact,  it  was  “ anything  to  fill 
your  box.”  Occasionally  the  less  scrupulous  would 
appropriate  the  pins  to  their  own  use.  Of  course 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  pay  off  and  send 
away  such  useless  fellows. 

114 


DOBOl,  OUR  NATIVE  COOK  AT  D1NAWA. 


THE  FIRST  CAMP 


Making  due  allowance,  however,  for  the  fact  that 
they  were  savages,  the  general  character  of  my 
collectors  said  a great  deal  for  human  nature.  Doboi 
was  a really  good  fellow,  and  had  only  one  repre- 
hensible escapade  to  his  discredit.  It  was  a case 
of  the  deceitfulness  of  wealth ! He  had  worked 
extremely  well  and  had  amassed  a small  fortune,  a 
blanket,  many  ramis,  and  a quantity  of  tobacco. 
With  these  possessions,  he  became  a small  king  in 
his  village.  One  day  he  vanished  with  all  his  goods. 
Now  Doboi  was  under  contract  to  remain  with  me 
while  I was  in  the  interior,  and  although  he  had 
received  much,  he  had  not  really  worked  off  his  part 
of  the  bargain.  Accordingly  I had  him  pursued  and 
brought  back,  and  thereafter  for  the  rest  of  his  time 
he  was  a good  boy.  He  was  fourteen,  but  had  attained 
to  full  manhood,  and  was  a very  capable  fellow. 

My  best  mountain  boy,  however,  was  Ow-bow. 
He  was  my  right  hand,  my  native  first  officer.  I 
could  send  him  anywhere,  for  he  was  quick  and 
alert,  but  he  always  stipulated  that  he  must  go 
armed,  and  believing  him  to  be  justified,  I invariably 
provided  him  with  a weapon.  He  loved  fire-arms 
passionately,  and  to  see  Ow-bow  enter  a village  with 
his  gun  over  his  shoulder  was  to  realise  on  a small 
scale  what  a Roman  triumph  must  have  been ! He 
understood  the  weapon — his  fellow-tribesmen  did  not. 
Therein  lay  Ow-bow’s  power.  He  would  fire  a shot 
in  the  air  and  then  lay  down  the  law  to  his  comrades. 
If  there  were  any  possibility  of  getting  what  you 
wanted,  Ow-bow  would  get  it.  He  would,  indeed, 
have  done  well  on  an  American  newspaper.  He 

ii  7 


THE  FIRST  CAMP 


understood  how  to  make  the  most  of  what  knowledge 
he  had,  and  was  fully  conscious  that  it  gave  him 
superior  power,  which  he  was  not  slow  to  wield. 
When  he  went  to  a village  to  recruit  carriers,  he 
arrayed  himself  in  his  best,  donned  his  finest  beads 
and  feathers,  and  painted  his  cheeks  in  scarlet  stripes. 
Thus  resplendent,  with  his  gun  over  his  shoulder, 
he  entered  the  village,  strutting  consequentially,  and 
immediately  made  his  presence  felt.  He  was  a man 
who  would  not  and  could  not  be  refused.  He  showed 
his  wages  and  told  the  tribesmen  that  they,  if  they 
carried  for  Parki,  would  become  rich  in  like 
manner. 

More  subtle  still  was  his  dealing  when  he  had 
been  sent  to  engage  women  for  grass-cutting  or  similar 
employment.  Ow-bow  was  a married  man  who  had 
permission  for  his  wife  to  stay  in  camp  with  him, 
and  this  lady  proved  his  great  advocate  with  her 
own  sex.  While  Ow-bow  waxed  eloquent  and  per- 
suasive with  the  men,  Mrs.  Ow-bow  would  display  to 
the  womenkind  what  wealth  had  also  come  to  her, 
and  as  she  reasoned,  her  sisters  were  persuaded,  and 
took  service  with  the  white  man.  But  Ow-bow’s 
flourishes  with  the  gun  were  no  mere  vainglorious 
show.  In  two  months’  time  he  had  become  a really 
good  shot,  and  after  a morning’s  sport  would  often 
return  to  camp  with  five  or  six  birds.  He  invariably 
accounted  for  his  empty  cartridges,  while  other  boys 
would  return  with  spent  cases  and  never  a feather 
to  show  for  them.  He  grasped  the  method  of  aiming 
at  once  and  never  showed  any  amateurish  disposition 
to  squint  along  the  barrel,  but  got  his  sights  on  the 

1 18 


THE  FIRST  CAMP 


bird  neatly  and  quickly  and  fired  without  hesitation. 
He  seldom  missed. 

During  the  morning,  while  the  boys  were  out  at 
work,  Harry  and  I would  also  be  engaged  with  our 
nets ; or,  as  our  collections  increased,  we  would  be 
busy  putting  specimens  together,  tending  them  and 
seeing  that  they  were  not  suffering  from  damp. 
Sometimes,  taking  a couple  of  the  laziest  boys  with 
me,  I descended  to  the  Aculama  and  followed  the 
stream  up  its  course,  collecting  as  we  went.  As  the 
boys’  skill  increased,  it  became  possible  to  send  them 
two  by  two  so  that  several  localities  could  be  worked 
simultaneously.  Work,  still  further  afield,  fell  to 
Sam,  who  often  went  away  with  five  or  six  carriers 
on  collecting  expeditions  that  lasted  a week  or  a 
fortnight. 

The  best  time  of  day  for  butterflies  is  from  8 a.m. 
till  noon.  The  boys  returned  to  camp  at  times  vary- 
ing according  to  their  luck  or  their  laziness,  and  in 
any  case,  we  had  all  returned  by  three  o’clock.  Then 
Doboi  or  Weiyah  cooked  a meal  which  varied  in 
excellence  according  to  the  state  of  the  stores  or  our 
luck  with  the  gun,  and  afterwards  we  took  our  siesta. 
The  late  afternoon  or  early  evening  found  us  at 
work  again  on  the  collections  or  putting  the  camp 
straight.  Darkness  descended  quickly,  and  when  there 
was  no  moon  we  went  to  the  verandah  and  began 
collecting  moths.  On  favourable  nights  we  often 
continued  at  work  till  daybreak. 

The  boys  did  not  care  about  night  work  and 
usually  sat  round  the  camp  fire  smoking,  spinning 
yarns,  or  crooning  their  charmingly  plaintive  mountain 

119 


THE  FIRST  CAMP 


melodies  until  about  i a.m.,  when  they  curled  up  under 
the  verandah  and  went  to  sleep.  Occasionally  one 
or  two  very  hard-up  young  gentlemen,  whose  need  of 
tobacco  was  urgent,  would  volunteer  to  assist  in  the 
moth-catching,  but  for  the  most  part  they  preferred 
free  evenings  like  the  young  working  people  of  more 
advanced  nations.  Visitors  from  Dinawa  dropped  in 
until  the  camp  became  a thronged  resort.  Then 
unfortunately  things  began  to  disappear,  and  it  was 
necessary  to  keep  the  natives  at  a greater  distance 
and  restrict  liberty  of  entrance.  “ No  admission 
except  on  business  ” became  the  rule  for  outsiders. 
On  my  own  boys,  I found  it  was  best  to  impose  no 
cast-iron  regulations. 

Nor  were  these  all  our  occupations.  Besides  the 
lepidoptera,  there  were  ornithological  and  botanical 
specimens  to  collect  and  preserve.  Of  the  last,  the 
more  succulent  required  constant  care  and  changing, 
and  some  took  three  weeks  to  dry.  Photography 
proved  a pleasant  change,  and  on  nights  unfavourable 
for  moths,  we  darkened  the  house  with  blankets  and 
had  a spell  of  developing.  At  such  times  one  realised 
poignantly  the  limitations  of  a savage  country,  and 
the  value  of  things  that  at  home  are  too  common- 
place to  be  remarked.  Our  chief  lack  was  a good 
flat  shelf.  Amateur  photographers  with  luxurious 
equipment  should  figure  to  themselves  the  discomforts 
of  a ridgy  shelf  of  split  bamboo  on  which  no  bottle 
will  stand  upright.  Groping  in  the  dim  red  light 
among  one’s  materials  on  that  crazy  ledge  was  as 
productive  of  maledictions  as  the  royal  and  ancient 
game  itself. 


120 


THE  FIRST  CAMP 


The  natives  were,  at  first,  very  much  frightened 
at  the  camera,  the  women  especially,  and  some  of 
them  were  never  reconciled  to  it.  I showed  them 
stereoscopic  slides  of  Papuan  views  on  Negretti  and 
Zambra’s  veroscope.  One  fellow,  on  seeing  his  own 
portrait  stand  out  in  bold  relief,  dropped  the  stereo- 
scope and  ran  up  a tree.  I occasionally  allowed  a 
few  privileged  natives  to  come  into  the  dark  room 
to  watch  the  developing.  At  first  they  were  rather 
alarmed  at  the  red  light,  but  gradually  they  became 
interested  in  the  process,  and  as  the  image  appeared 
we  heard  the  inevitable  “lo-pi-ang.” 

Such  was  our  daily  life  at  Dinawa — very  enjoyable 
in  the  crisp  and  bracing  mountain  air  that  reminded 
one  of  an  English  October.  But  for  the  unavoidable 
cares  of  camp  management  and  fears  for  the  endurance 
of  our  food  supply  and  the  safety  of  our  specimens,  it 
would  have  been  altogether  ideal. 


123 


CHAPTER  VI 

VICISSITUDES  AND  A DIGRESSION 

The  Drought  affects  our  Work — Butterflies  begin  to  Fail — 
Forest  Fires — We  descend  to  the  St.  Joseph  River — A Tempo- 
rary Camp — A Wonderful  Native  Suspension  Bridge — River 
Scenery — Native  Methods  of  Fishing — Dull  Weather  and 
Little  Success  in  Collecting — A Comic  Incident — A Native 
besieged  by  a Wild  Pig — War — Native  Hostility — A Chief 
threatens  to  Cook  and  Eat  our  Heads — Strict  Guard  kept 
on  Camp — The  Bird  of  Paradise — Papuan  Game  Laws — 
Natives’  Interest  in  Writing — Further  Stay  at  the  St.  Joseph 
Impracticable — A Flood  destroys  our  Bridge — A Visit  to  a 
Native  Village — Curious  Means  of  Ingress — Return  to  Dinawa 
— My  Cingalese  Headman’s  Experiences — He  evades  Native 
Treachery — Sudden  Growth  of  a New  Township. 


CHAPTER  VI 


VICISSITUDES  AND  A DIGRESSION 

As  the  days  went  on  at  Dinawa,  there  was  no  sign  of 
any  breaking  up  of  the  great  drought,  which  began 
seriously  to  affect  the  success  of  our  work.  Butterflies 
grew  scarce,  and  daily  the  catch  fell  off,  for  the  vege- 
tation was  getting  very  dry.  Lycopodiums  were  drop- 
ping off  the  trees,  and  often  we  could  see,  in  the  lower 
grounds,  great  forest  fires,  which  consumed  the  under- 
growth throughout  large  tracts  of  country,  miles  and 
miles  being  left  blackened  and  burnt  up.  In  these 
conflagrations,  millions  of  low-feeding  and  high-feed- 
ing larvae  must  have  been  destroyed,  and  there  was  a 
corresponding  decrease  in  the  insect  life  of  the  district. 
Seeing  that,  for  a time,  there  was  not  much  more  to 
be  done,  we  decided  to  quit  our  camp  at  Dinawa  and 
descend  to  the  St.  Joseph  River;  so,  on  July  22,  we 
set  out  with  thirty  carriers,  and  went  down  into  a deep 
valley,  whence  we  climbed  a ridge  which  brought  us 
to  a native  village  so  strongly  stockaded  that  we  knew 
that  the  tribes  must  be  at  war — village  against  village 
— and  this  unsettled  state  of  affairs  made  it  very 
difficult  to  persuade  the  natives  to  pass  with  us  through 
the  open  country  that  lay  between  the  hamlets. 

At  this  place  we  changed  carriers,  and,  accom- 
panied by  the  chief  of  the  village,  we  descended  by  an 
extremely  rough  native  path  to  the  St.  Joseph  River, 

127 


VICISSITUDES 


which  we  reached  at  4 p.m.,  after  a march  of  about  six 
hours.  We  found  the  river  very  low  but  beautifully 
limpid  and  very  rapid.  For  our  camp  we  immediately 
chose  a small  patch  of  sand  close  to  the  stream,  the 
only  clear  space  we  could  find ; for  the  river  bed  and 
the  gorge  itself  were  filled  with  enormous  boulders 
piled  one  upon  the  other  in  the  wildest  confusion. 

Our  temporary  dwellings  were  of  the  simplest. 
Harry  and  I occupied  an  ordinary  fly-tent,  and  another 
was  pitched  for  our  native  followers.  On  the  day 
after  our  arrival  we  set  about  constructing  a rough 
bridge  for  our  own  convenience.  This  we  did  by 
felling  a tree  on  one  side  of  the  stream  and  letting 
it  fall  across  the  river  bed  as  far  as  it  would  go.  We 
repeated  the  operation  with  a thinner  tree,  which  we 
let  fall  from  the  opposite  bank,  and  the  branches  of 
the  two  intertwining  in  the  middle,  gave  the  structure 
some  sort  of  continuity.  Along  the  two  trunks  we 
could  scramble  without  any  very  great  difficulty.  Our 
feat  of  engineering,  however,  was  as  nothing  compared 
to  the  one  achieved  by  our  savage  neighbours,  for  at  a 
little  distance  up  the  stream  the  Papuans  had  spanned 
the  gorge  with  a most  wonderful  suspension  bridge. 
Across  the  ravine  they  had  swung  four  main  chains 
of  bamboo.  These  were  fastened  at  each  end  to  a 
rigid  horizontal  cross-piece,  and  this  again  was  braced 
on  one  side  of  the  river  to  two  trees,  of  no  very  great 
thickness,  but  of  tremendous  sustaining  power,  while 
on  the  other  the  chains  were  laid  over  the  top  of  an 
enormous  crag,  then  across  a little  depression  in  the 
ground  behind  it,  and  so  were  made  fast  to  trees  at 
the  height  of  a few  feet  from  the  ground.  The  four 

128 


VICISSITUDES 


main  chains  were  under-girt  with  loops  of  bamboo, 
forming  a cradle,  along  the  bottom  of  which  single 
bamboos  were  laid  on  end,  affording  a precarious 
footway.  The  total  length  of  the  span  was  at  least 
150  feet,  and  it  swung  clear  of  the  tree-tops  on  the 
wooded  sides  of  the  gorge.  At  its  greatest  dip  the 
bridge  must  have  been  70  feet  above  the  river.  The 
elasticity  and  swing  were  tremendous,  and  1 confess  that 
the  passage  of  the  bridge  was  no  joke  to  one  unaccus- 
tomed to  its  giddy  eccentricities.  On  this  veritable 
tight-rope  custom  is  everything,  for  I have  seen  fifteen 
native  carriers  at  one  time  dancing  carelessly  across  it, 
regardless  of  their  heavy  loads  and  of  the  tremen- 
dous increase  in  the  oscillation  that  their  numbers 
caused. 

I crossed  with  some  natives  of  the  district,  and 
having  descended  the  right  bank  of  the  St.  Joseph  for 
about  a mile,  we  came  to  the  mouth  of  a small  tribu- 
tary, the  bed  of  which  we  ascended  for  a distance  of 
half  a mile.  It  was  a toilsome  ascent  owing  to  the 
enormous  boulders,  to  which  I have  already  alluded, 
and  I found  that  the  safest  way  was  to  take  off  my 
shoes  and  stockings  and  clamber  along  bare-foot.  At 
intervals  among  these  boulders  occurred  calm  pools  of 
exquisite  deep  blue  water,  and  these  the  natives  choose 
as  their  fishing  grounds.  They  favour  the  pools  with 
the  narrowest  outlets,  and  dam  with  leaves  the  little 
waterfalls  or  natural  weirs  over  which  the  water  rushes 
from  one  clear  expanse  to  another. 

My  native  companions,  being  very  agreeable  and 
obliging  fellows,  were  kind  enough  to  send  to  their 
villages  for  the  great  fishing  nets,  30  yards  long  and 

1 29  G 


VICISSITUDES 


6 or  7 feet  wide.  When  the  nets  arrived,  the  natives 
collected  stones  about  the  size  of  an  orange,  wrapped 
palm  leaves  round  them,  and  then  tied  them  to  the 
edge  of  the  net,  until  it  was  evenly  weighted  all  along, 
at  intervals  of  about  6 inches.  They  then  lowered 
their  net  into  the  water,  so  arranging  it  as  to  form  a 
half-moon,  and,  scrambling  along  the  sides  of  the 
watercourse,  they  gradually  drew  the  mesh  towards 
them,  until  they  reached  the  upper  end  of  the  pool, 
where  natives,  standing  breast-high  in  the  water, 
landed  the  fish,  as  they  were  pressed  towards  the 
bank,  in  large  dip  nets.  Some  of  the  fish  jumped 
over  the  net,  and  some  escaped  down  stream,  and 
even  managed  to  plunge  over  the  weir,  for  they  were 
strong  enough  to  take  a leap  of  6 feet.  We  caught 
eight  beauties,  none  under  2 lbs.  in  weight,  and  some 
up  to  4 lbs.  They  were,  as  far  as  I could  make  out,  a 
species  of  fresh-water  mullet,  and  in  the  main  stream 
of  the  St.  Joseph  similar  fish,  weighing  as  much  as 
15  lbs.,  are  no  uncommon  catch. 

These  fish  are  wonderfully  provided  by  Nature 
with  an  appliance  which  helps  them  to  combat  the 
extraordinary  current.  At  one  moment  you  will  see 
them  being  swept  down  resistlessly,  but  suddenly  they 
shoot  off  into  the  quieter  water  and  attach  themselves 
to  the  rocks  by  a strong  sucker  near  the  mouth. 
There  they  hang  just  outside  the  current,  their  tails 
moving  gently  with  the  eddy;  and  when  they  have 
recovered  their  strength,  they  make  another  dash 
through  the  swifter  waters,  coming  to  anchor  again 
when  baffled — otherwise  it  would  be  impossible  for 
them  to  stem  the  stream.  The  fish  we  caught  that 

130 


FISHING  WITH  HAND-NET  ON  THE  UPPER  WATERS  OF  THE  ST.  JOSEPH  RIVER. 


VICISSITUDES 


day  made  a most  welcome  addition  to  our  larder,  as 
they  are  delicious  eating. 

From  a scientific  point  of  view  we  did  not  gain 
much  by  our  expedition  to  the  St.  Joseph  River. 
Every  day  the  skies  were  leaden,  and  during  the 
whole  time  of  our  stay  we  saw  no  sun.  Butterflies 
were  scarcely  more  plentiful  than  they  had  been  at 
Dinawa,  and  once,  after  a whole  morning’s  work, 
Harry  had  only  secured  two  — fine  specimens,  no 
doubt,  but  even  at  that  an  insufficient  reward  for  the 
time  spent.  Every  night  we  kept  the  lamp  going, 
but  the  moths  were  very  scarce,  although  our  camp 
was  in  the  heart  of  the  forest. 

Our  life  at  St.  Joseph  River,  however,  was  not  to 
be  all  tranquillity.  Once  we  had  an  alarm  which 
fortunately  degenerated  into  an  incident  of  pure 
comedy,  although  it  might  have  been  very  serious. 
At  nightfall,  one  evening,  a native  boy,  who  had  gone 
out  shooting,  had  not  returned,  and  we  began  to 
grow  very  anxious  about  him.  At  eight  o’clock,  how- 
ever, he  came  into  camp  in  a state  of  considerable 
agitation  and  bringing  a strange  tale  of  a pig.  He  had 
shot  a tusker  with  No.  9 shot,  but  had  only  wounded 
it,  and  the  animal  charged  him,  whereupon  he  had 
thrown  away  his  gun  and  run  up  a tree.  Then  the 
pig  sat  down  over  against  him  and  laid  siege  to  him, 
and  our  poor  friend  abode  in  the  tree  for  several  hours. 
Finally,  however,  the  pig’s  wound,  which  was  over  his 
eye,  so  blinded  him  with  blood  that  he  raised  the  siege 
in  disgust  and  made  off  to  his  fastnesses. 

As  time  went  on  the  rumours  of  war  increased, 
and  one  day  three  natives  came  in  from  the  village  of 

133 


VICISSITUDES 


Mi-Mi,  six  hours’  journey  higher  up  the  mountains, 
on  the  top  of  a ridge.  They  came  from  the  chief 
of  Baw-boi,  a fierce  warrior,  who  kept  all  the  small 
villages  round  him  in  abject  terror.  His  emissaries 
conveyed  to  me  a most  agreeable  message,  that  if  we 
and  our  followers  should  honour  him  with  a visit  at 
Mi-Mi,  he  would  kill  my  men,  and  have  the  pleasure 
of  cooking  and  eating  our  heads — a compliment,  pre- 
sumably, to  the  superiority  of  European  brains.  I had 
fully  intended  to  visit  him,  but  after  this  token  of 
cordiality  I refrained,  so  that  the  menu  of  the  chief 
of  Baw-boi’s  regal  banquet  has  not  yet  included  the 
tempting  item,  “braised  brains  of  Pratt.”  After  the 
chief’s  intimation  I kept  fires  going  all  night  at  both 
ends  of  the  camp,  but  it  was  not  necessary  to  post  a 
stricter  watch  than  usual,  for  three  or  four  of  my  men 
always  kept  awake  in  their  hammocks  during  the 
dark  hours.  This  precaution  is,  in  fact,  so  natural  to 
savages  that  they  never  need  to  be  reminded  of  its 
necessity.  We  heard  that  the  chief  of  Baw-boi  had 
placed  his  village  in  a complete  state  of  defence, 
had  excavated  a trench  18  feet  wide  all  round,  and 
had  erected  a stockade.  The  effect  of  these  hostile 
preparations  on  the  weaker  villages  round  we  were  to 
learn  later  from  Sam,  who  was,  at  this  time,  a day’s 
journey  higher  up  the  river  carrying  on  collecting 
work  for  me. 

The  days  seemed  very  long  from  lack  of  occupa- 
tion, and  the  nights  also,  for  we  could  not  sleep  for 
the  roar  of  the  St.  Joseph  River.  Occasionally  there 
were  amusing  incidents.  One  of  my  men,  Gaberio, 
had  a brilliant  inspiration.  He  thought  he  would 

134 


VICISSITUDES 


shoot  fish  with  a rifle,  and  was  allowed  to  go  and  try ; 
but  not  only  were  they  too  quick  for  him,  but,  of 
course,  the  water  deflected  the  ball,  and  the  refraction 
of  light  through  water  makes  a true  aim  impossible. 
Gaberio,  who  had  no  knowledge  of  natural  science, 
covered  his  defeat  by  another  excuse — “ Water  too 
deep,”  said  Gaberio. 

We  found  here  some  indication  of  rudimentary 
game  laws  existing  among  the  Papuans.  Round  this 
region  dwelt  certain  chiefs,  in  whose  territory  grew 
the  play-trees  of  the  raggiana  or  red  bird  of  paradise. 
These  gentlemen  intimated  to  us  that  any  one  who 
came  to  shoot  the  raggiana  must  pay  them  a fee,  as 
the  birds,  by  virtue  of  their  coming  to  play  in  their 
trees,  were  their  property. 

As  the  natives  had  little  to  do  in  camp,  they  used 
to  sit  round  Harry,  watching  him  with  the  greatest 
interest  while  he  posted  his  diary,  and  exclaiming  at 
intervals,  “ mallelee  lo-pi-ang”  (good  writing).  It  is 
most  singular  that  they  should  have  had  a word  for 
writing,  for  I found  no  trace  among  them  even  of 
picture  writing,  if  we  except  the  markings  on  the 
“ bau-bau  ” or  pipe  ; but  it  is  probable  that  they  had 
some  means  of  communication  by  scratching  on  bark, 
otherwise  the  existence  of  the  term  seems  to  be  in- 
explicable. 

At  length  I saw  that  a further  stay  at  the  St.  Joseph 
was  impracticable.  A flood  came  down  and  washed 
away  our  bridge,  and  it  was  with  no  great  reluctance 
that  we  struck  our  camp  and  returned  to  Dinawa. 
On  the  way  we  repassed  the  village  of  Fa-lo-foida, 
which  stands  on  the  top  of  a conical  hill  surrounded 

*35 


VICISSITUDES 


by  precipices.  It  was  strongly  stockaded,  and  we  had 
a stiff  clamber  to  get  to  the  top.  To  enter  the  stockade 
we  had  to  pass  through  the  outer  native  house  before 
gaining  access  to  the  centre  of  the  village,  a sort  of 
compound.  The  stockade  was  closely  built,  only  a 
few  bars  being  left  loose  for  ingress  and  egress, 
and  the  entrance  could  easily  be  shut  in  case  of 
attack. 

A march  lasting  from  6 a.m.  till  12.30  p.m.  brought 
us  back  to  Dinawa,  where  we  found  all  well  and  in 
good  order,  except  our  plants  and  one  of  the  birds. 
A “ magnificent,”  a really  beautiful  specimen  of  that 
species  of  paradise  bird,  which  one  of  my  boys  had 
brought  in,  and  which  we  had  hoped  to  keep  in  a 
cage,  had  died,  probably  because  when  its  captor 
brought  it  into  camp  he  slung  it  head  downwards 
from  a pole,  and  kept  it  in  that  position  several 
hours.  We  were  heartily  sorry  to  lose  so  fine  an 
example  of  the  Jcellelo,  as  the  Papuans  call  that 
variety. 

Two  days  after  our  return  to  Dinawa  camp,  Sam 
rejoined  us.  He  had  much  to  tell,  for  the  times  had 
been  rather  stirring  with  him.  My  head  man  as  well 
as  I had  received  the  polite  attentions  of  the  Baw- 
boi  chieftain,  who  had  sent  in  to  say  that  he  was  not 
afraid  of  Sam  and  his  gun,  and  that  he  would  cut  off 
his  head  and  eat  him.  After  this  overture  Sam  was 
careful  to  camp  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill,  but  our 
adversary  did  not  give  up  hopes  of  a Cingalese  dinner. 
A message  came  from  another  village  that  if  Sam 
would  go  there  he  would  be  presented  with  a pig ; 
but  he  knew  the  Papuan  too  well.  He  replied  to 

136 


HOUGH  BRIDGE  WE  MADE  AT  THE  ST.  JOSEPH  RIVER. 


VICISSITUDES 


the  messengers  that  if  they  had  a pig  they  should 
bring  it  into  camp.  Of  course  no  pig  came. 

From  Sam  we  learned  further  that  the  Fa-lo-foida 
people,  through  fear  of  the  Baw-boi  people,  had  cut 
the  suspension  bridge,  and  that  the  natives  farther 
up  the  St.  Joseph  River,  on  hearing  of  the  tyrant’s 
warlike  preparations,  had  left  their  villages  and  had 
settled  on  the  site  of  the  camp  I had  just  quitted. 
Their  object  was,  of  course,  to  be  near  friendly  Fa-lo- 
foida,  which  would  in  time  of  stress  be  to  them  as  a 
fenced  city.  This  incident  led  to  the  formation  of 
quite  a new  township,  and  before  I left  Dinawa  for 
good  my  old  camp  on  the  St.  Joseph  had  become  a 
considerable  village.  It  was  a curious  example  of 
the  way  in  which  political  necessity  affected  the 
locale  of  village  communities. 


139 


\ 


CHAPTER  VII 

GOOD-BTE  TO  DIN  A IV A 

A Beautiful  New  Orchid  discovered  and  described — Drought 
continues — Sufferings  of  the  Natives — I practise  as  a Physician 
— Queer  Native  Diagnosis — Gaberio,  an  Intelligent  Native,  goes 
collecting  on  his  own  Account — How  we  kept  touch — The 
Wireless  Telegraph  of  the  Wilds — We  determine  to  take  our 
Specimens  to  the  Coast — Methods  of  Preservation  and  Packing 
— Gaberio  returns — He  tells  of  the  Murder  of  one  of  his  Boys — 
Hardships  of  Camp  Life — Food  and  Ammunition  fail — We  try 
Cockatoo  Soup — A Visit  from  a Fine  Hill  Tribe,  the  Ibala — 
They  brighten  the  Last  Days  of  our  Stay — Gorgeous  Sunsets  at 
Dinawa — The  Ibala  People  return  according  to  Contract  to  act 
as  Carriers — We  depart — Trials  of  the  March  to  the  Coast — A 
Mishap  at  Sea — Our  Fine  Herbarium  ruined  with  Salt  Water — 
Port  Moresby  once  more. 


CHAPTER  VII 


GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 

Among  the  scientific  specimens  I brought  back  to 
Dinawa  was  a new  phallonopsis  which  I had  dis- 
covered near  Fa-lo-foida  as  we  returned  from  our 
camp  on  the  St.  Joseph.  This  orchid  is  one  of  the 
superb  treasures  that  occasionally  reward  the  seeker 
as  he  passes  through  the  wilds  of  New  Guinea.  It 
was  found  growing  in  the  fork  of  a tree,  where  it 
had  plenty  of  shade  and  a rich  damp  bed  of  moss 
and  leaves.  The  leaves  were  a very  brilliant  dark 
green,  and  on  the  spray,  which  was  quite  3 feet 
long,  grew  thirty  magnificent  white  flowers  of 
exquisite  fragrance.  Each  specimen  must  have 
measured  inches  in  diameter  when  the  sepals 

and  petals  were  extended.  Its  whiteness  fulfilled 
the  most  rigid  canons  of  the  orchid  fancier,  for  in 
judging  orchids  there  are  whites  and  whites.  The 
value  is  determined  by  substance.  You  may  get 
a white  that  is  very  satisfactory,  but  there  is  a 
thick  waxiness  of  blossom  that  gives  to  a plant  the 
very  highest  value,  and  this  delightful  specimen  was 
as  near  the  ideal  as  anything  I have  ever  seen.  It 
had,  of  course,  pseudo-bulbs,  and  did  not  live  on 
the  tree,  which  is  merely  used  as  a means  of  support, 
and  the  plant  draws  its  nourishment  from  the  humidity 
of  the  atmosphere. 


143 


GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 


Once  more  we  settled  down  to  the  routine  life  of 
the  camp,  but  it  became  plainer  every  day  that,  as 
there  was  no  sign  of  the  drought  breaking  up,  there 
was  very  little  hope  of  satisfactory  work  until  another 
year.  The  skies  were  still  brazen,  and  vegetation  was 
failing  more  and  more.  The  sweet  potato  crop  had 
utterly  failed.  Those  in  store  had  long  been  con- 
sumed, and  the  natives  were  absolutely  starving  round 
us.  It  was  no  use  for  them  to  plant  another  crop  of 
sweet  potatoes  until  the  rain  should  come,  and  they 
were  wandering  sadly  all  over  the  forest  seeking  what 
sustenance  they  could.  Their  strength  was  failing, 
and  their  privations  were  beginning  to  tell  in  terrible 
emaciation.  It  was  pitiful  to  see  the  starving  creatures 
come  into  camp,  most  of  them  mere  skin  and  bone. 
Their  children,  of  course,  felt  the  pinch  hardest,  and 
there  were  many  deaths.  To  see  their  condition  one 
could  hardly  believe  that  they  would  ever  recover,  but 
they  bore  it  all  with  a wonderful  stoicism.  Occa- 
sionally they  would  try  to  catch  a pig  in  their  corrals. 

The  Dinawa  people  would  also  come  to  me  for 
medicine,  and  would  constitute  me  their  physician 
for  small  complaints,  such  as  headache,  but  I had 
to  be  very  careful  in  this  respect,  for  I found  out 
that  often  they  wanted  medicine  when  nothing  was 
the  matter.  This  recalls  to  me  an  amusing  incident 
of  this  period  connected  with  my  minor  iEsculapian 
dealings.  One  morning  Doboi,  Martu,  and  Ow-bow 
came  in,  saying  that  Doboi’s  mother  was  ill.  On 
being  questioned  as  to  her  symptoms,  they  told 
me  that  she  was  aching  all  over  her  body,  and  her 
head  was  particularly  painful.  Beyond  these  details 

144 


The  background  is  the  roof  and  side  of  the  author's  house. 


GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 

we  could  not  find  out  anything,  and  as  the  woman 
was  some  distance  off,  and  it  was  not  convenient  to 
go  that  day,  we  gave  them  a headache  compound  and 
sent  them  off  with  it.  Later  in  the  afternoon  the 
boys  returned  and  told  us  that  Ow-bow’s  mother  was 
dead,  but  the  tidings  were  not  so  alarming  as  at  first 
appeared  ; for  they  added  that  “ her  head  was  dead  but 
her  stomach  was  alive,”  from  which  I understood  that 
she  was  unconscious.  The  neighbouring  Roman  Cath- 
olic missionary,  on  hearing  this,  said  that  he  would 
go  over  the  following  day.  These  cases  were  not  new 
to  him  ; in  fact,  he  told  us  that  fainting  was  quite 
common.  Obviously,  the  dead  head  and  the  live 
stomach  was  a simple  instance  of  swooning. 

During  this  time  we  had  permitted  our  man 
Gaberio — whom  I have  already  mentioned  as  being 
with  us  at  the  St.  Joseph  River — to  go  off  on  his 
own  account  collecting  butterflies  and  birds.  Gaberio 
was  a Papuan  whom  I had  engaged  at  Port  Moresby. 
He  was  very  intelligent,  capable,  and  quick,  and  to 
his  other  qualities  he  added  a knowledge  of  pigeon 
English.  I mention  him  chiefly  because  the  fact  of 
his  absence  brought  home  to  us  with  considerable 
force  the  value  of  that  extraordinary  system  of  inter- 
communication prevailing  among  the  Papuans,  which 
may  well  be  called  the  wireless  telegraphy  of  the 
wilds.  For  some  time  Gaberio  was,  as  one  might 
expect  in  such  a region,  entirely  beyond  our  ken, 
and  although  we  knew  he  could  take  care  of  him- 
self very  well,  as  the  days  went  on,  and  our  departure 
was  approaching,  we  felt  that  we  should  like  to  have 
tidings  of  him. 


H7 


GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 


One  morning,  while  we  were  writing  home,  we 
heard  the  natives  calling  from  hill  to  hill.  In  that 
pure  air  their  voices  carry  magnificently  for  a great 
distance,  and  village  answers  village  with  perfect  ease 
from  ridge  to  ridge.  A little  later  the  natives  came 
in  and  told  us  that  Gaberio  was  at  a village  called 
Kea-ka-mana,  on  the  northern  slope  of  the  hill  beyond 
us.  It  appeared  that  he  was  coming  back  by  the 
same  route  as  he  had  gone,  and  they  told  us  that 
he  expected  to  reach  camp  the  next  day.  We  thought 
at  the  time  that  he  might  go  from  Kea-ka-mana  to  the 
Kebea,  but  the  natives  said  no,  so  we  surmised  that 
he  must  have  a good  collection  of  butterflies  and 
birds,  for  he  had  had  fine  weather — finer,  indeed, 
than  Sam,  who  after  all  had  got  together  quite  a 
fine  number  of  specimens.  This  news  set  us  quite 
briskly  to  the  work  of  preparation  for  our  departure, 
for  as  soon  as  Gaberio  should  have  returned  we 
determined  to  make  all  speed  down  to  Epa.  The 
next  day  we  were  on  the  look-out  for  Gaberio,  but 
he  did  not  arrive,  so  we  concluded  that  he  had  either 
gone  to  the  Kebea  or  was  remaining  at  Kea-ka-mana 
collecting.  We  filled  up  the  day  with  active  pre- 
parations for  breaking  up  the  camp,  and,  of  course, 
our  chief  care  was  our  collections. 

The  first  precaution  was  to  take  measures  for  the 
preservation  of  our  moths  and  birds,  so  we  made  deep 
trays  from  the  logs  we  had  already  sawn  and  held  over 
from  our  house-building,  each  tray  being  strong 
enough  to  resist  concussion,  for  as  it  would  be 
carelessly  carried,  swung  on  a long  bamboo,  and 
allowed  to  dash  against  trees  and  other  obstacles, 

148 


THE  WIRELESS  TELEGRAPHY  OF  NEW  GUINEA. 

The  natives  shout  their  news  from  hill-top  to  hill-top,  thus  conveying  it  with 
amazing  rapidity. 


GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 


the  antennae  and  legs  of  our  specimens  would  be 
easily  jarred,  and  very  probably  shaken  off.  The 
butterflies  did  not  require  such  care,  for  each  specimen 
was  wrapped  in  paper  and  laid  in  sago  boxes.  Inside 
the  wooden  cases  we  placed  the  moth  boxes  proper, 
and  in  other  two  cases  we  laid  our  birds.  Outside 
everything  we  pasted  paper,  treated  with  arsenic,  to 
keep  out  insects  when  we  should  come  to  the  lower 
ground,  for  the  tiny  ants  at  Port  Moresby  are  legion 
and  can  penetrate  the  smallest  aperture ; once  the 
ants  enter  a naturalist’s  collection,  woe  betide  it  ! 
Our  only  trouble  during  these  packing  operations  was 
that  we  had  not  any  nails  small  enough,  for  the  huge 
ones  we  had  brought  from  the  coast  very  often  split 
the  wood. 

During  our  last  fourteen  days  at  Dinawa  we  had 
one  small  gleam  of  good  fortune  in  our  collecting,  for, 
curiously  enough,  we  had  quite  a run  of  good  nights 
with  the  moths.  The  nights  were  dark  and  misty, 
and  we  very  often  had  sufficient  success  to  encourage 
us  to  remain  on  the  verandah  and  work  until  the  small 
hours. 

The  second  morning  after  the  day  we  had  our  first 
news  of  Gaberio  there  was  more  calling,  and  shortly 
we  heard  that  our  follower  was  still  at  Kea-ka-mana, 
and  that  he  had  after  all  decided  to  go  to  the  Kebea, 
and  would  return  that  way.  The  next  day,  while  we 
■were  hard  at  work  on  our  packing,  we  heard  that 
Gaberio  was  on  the  Kebea — very  pleasant  news — for 
he  was  right  in  the  heart  of  the  best  locality  for  the 
blue  bird  of  paradise  and  for  lieterocerct.  There  was 
another  reason  why  this  news  was  encouraging,  and 

I5i 


GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 


that  was  that  a native  feast  was  pending  at  Kea-ka- 
mana,  and  we  had  feared  that  Gaberio  might  be 
tempted  to  waste  his  time  there  in  savage  orgies. 
According  to  the  latest  intelligence,  Gaberio  would 
still  be  absent  four  or  five  days,  and  as  he  was  in 
such  a fine  collecting  country  we  hoped  he  would 
stay  out  to  the  end  of  his  tether.  Gaberio,  however, 
did  not  fulfil  our  expectations  in  this  respect,  for 
the  next  day,  shortly  after  noon,  we  heard  that  he 
was  not  at  the  Kebea  at  all,  but  that  he  was  approach- 
ing the  village  on  the  ridge  opposite,  about  500  or  600 
feet  above  Dinawa.  Three  hours  later  the  intelligence 
department  lied.  It  announced  that  Gaberio  was  at 
hand,  the  fiction  being  invented,  no  doubt,  out  of  the 
savage’s  fondness  for  creating  a little  pleasurable  ex- 
pectation. Unconsciously,  however,  Gaberio  himself 
disproved  the  story,  for  we  heard  his  gun  far  away  on 
the  heights,  and  we  were  able  to  locate  him.  Before 
nightfall  we  knew  that  he  was  really  at  the  village 
first  mentioned,  for  we  could  clearly  distinguish  his 
tent. 

The  next  morning,  September  21,  both  Harry  and  I 
slept  late,  for  we  had  had  an  extremely  heavy  day. 
While  we  were  still  in  bed  we  heard  a shot  from 
Gaberio,  whom  we  welcomed  back  about  eleven 
o’clock.  He  brought  a really  good  collection,  which 
included  three  blue  birds  of  paradise  and  four  long- 
tails.  Gaberio’s  news,  however,  was  not  all  good,  for 
he  had  to  report  that  one  of  his  boys  had  been  mur- 
dered. Whether  the  chief  of  Baw-boi  had  a hand  in 
it,  or  whether  there  was  a private  reason  for  the  crime, 
I cannot  say.  It  was  not  on  the  Baw-boi  side  of  the 

152 


GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 


river,  so  perhaps  if  it  was  not  fortune  of  war  it  may 
have  been  misfortune  of  love,  for  the  eternal  feminine 
is  as  potent  in  Papua  for  evil  as  she  has  been  in  other 
lands  since  Eden  or  Troy  was  lost.  Be  that  as  it  may, 
the  lad,  a carrier  from  the  village  of  Kowaka,  about  a 
day’s  journey  from  Dinawa,  went  out  from  camp  at 
Ta-poo-a  one  night  into  the  forest,  and  there  the 
adversary  overtook  him.  It  is  probable  that  he  was 
laid  wait  for,  or  he  may  merely  have  fallen  to  the 
spear  of  some  wandering  marauders.  The  natives  in 
camp  heard  his  cry  and  were  speedily  on  the  spot,  but 
it  was  too  late.  He  had  been  speared  through  the 
cheek,  and  his  jugular  vein  had  been  severed.  In  a 
very  few  minutes  he  died.  The  victim’s  own  kindred 
came  in  to  take  charge  of  the  body,  arriving  even 
before  Gaberio’s  messenger  could  reach  their  village, 
so  swift  and  mysterious  is  the  communication  of  news 
in  New  Guinea. 

Now  that  Gaberio  was  back  we  were  more  than 
ever  anxious  to  leave,  for  our  provisions  were  running 
very  low,  and  we  were  living  principally  on  cockatoo 
soup.  To  make  matters  worse  we  had  almost  run  out 
of  ammunition,  and  for  some  time  not  even  a pigeon 
broke  the  monotony  of  our  poor  fare.  Occasionally 
we  procured  one  or  two  sweet  potatoes,  but  the  natives 
were  naturally  very  unwilling  to  sell  them.  A further 
difficulty  stared  us  in  the  face,  for  the  exhaustion  of 
the  natives  through  famine  was  now  so  great  that  I 
did  not  know  how  we  were  to  get  our  baggage  down 
to  the  coast,  but  relief  dropped,  if  not  from  the  clouds, 
at  least  from  the  hills. 

One  day  we  heard  that  the  people  of  Ibala,  who 

153  h 


GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 

had  heard  of  the  white  men’s  coming,  had  been 
sufficiently  overcome  with  curiosity  to  make  the 
journey  from  their  distant  home  to  visit  us.  At  that 
home  of  theirs,  far  away  on  one  of  the  greater 
mountain  sides  of  the  Owen  Stanley  range,  I had 
often  gazed  with  wonder  and  all  the  explorer’s  long- 
ing. Some  five  or  six  days’  journey  to  the  north 
towered  a great  and  mysterious  peak,  higher  than 
Mount  Yule,  the  northern  slopes  of  which  I imagine 
were  in  German  territory.  Close  to  this  mountain 
was  a range  of  low  foot-hills,  bare  of  trees,  but 
clothed,  as  far  as  we  could  make  out  through  our 
glasses,  with  rich  pasturage,  and  it  seemed  an  ideal 
spot  for  some  future  stock-breeder  in  New  Guinea, 
for  such  open  spaces  for  grazing-grounds  are  un- 
common in  the  island.  From  these  foot-hills  there 
rose  continually  into  the  clear  air  countless  columns 
of  pale  blue  smoke,  telling  of  a numerous  popula- 
tion. On  the  mountain  the  forests  hung  dense 
to  the  summit,  but  the  strangest  thing  of  all  was 
that  through  these  masses  of  trees  there  ran  what 
seemed  like  a drive,  rising  straight  to  the  highest 
ridge,  its  sides  as  sharply  and  clearly  marked  as 
though  it  had  been  cleared  by  the  hand  of  man. 
There  were  no  straggling  trees  dotted  here  and  there 
at  irregular  intervals  from  the  sides.  The  forest  left 
off  sharply  in  an  ascending  line,  but  the  space  seemed 
to  extend  for  at  least  300  yards,  and  then  the  forest 
began  again,  being  as  clearly  defined  as  the  side  of  a 
well-built  street.  On  the  very  summit  we  could  make 
out  through  our  glasses  the  presence  of  giant  arau- 
carias, of  which  I obtained  some  specimens  from  Sam, 


NATIVES  OF  ENUMAKA  IN  THE  OWEN  STANLEY  RANGE. 


GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 


who,  while  absent  on  one  of  his  short  expeditions, 
sent  a native  up  the  mountain  for  seedlings.  I hoped 
that  one  of  these  might  find  a home  in  some  British 
collection,  but,  unfortunately,  it  died  of  the  drought. 

It  was  from  that  region  that  the  Ibala  people 
hailed,  and  certainly,  had  the  difficulties  of  transport 
not  been  so  great,  I should  long  ere  this  have  visited 
them  in  their  fastnesses.  These  fine  northern  men 
entered  camp  very  shyly,  and  sat  down  with  great 
diffidence.  In  appearance  they  were  really  handsome. 
Each  man  stood  5 feet  8 inches  on  an  average ; all 
were  of  fine  physique  and  of  a rich  copper  colour. 
Their  women,  of  whom  they  brought  a few,  were  not 
quite  so  tall.  They  were  all  in  full  finery,  the  men 
decorated  with  feathers,  their  faces  painted  in  regular 
stripes  with  the  juice  of  a scarlet  berry.  Between 
each  red  stripe  ran  a line  of  charcoal  to  set  off  the 
colour.  A few  of  them  wore  the  transverse  pencil 
of  tapering  shell  thrust  through  the  septum  of  the 
nose,  a form  of  decoration  much  affected  by  Papuan 
dandies.  The  women’s  chief  article  of  apparel  was 
the  customary  dogs’  teeth  necklace. 

At  first  our  visitors  did  not  ask  for  anything,  but 
talked  in  a desultory  way  through  Ow-bow,  who  knew 
their  language.  Later  in  the  afternoon,  however, 
they  proffered  a request  for  some  tobacco.  Here  was 
my  opportunity.  These  admirable  fellows,  who  had 
come  from  a region  where  there  was  no  famine  and 
were  in  the  pink  of  condition,  were  just  the  very 
material  I wanted  for  my  journey.  Accordingly,  I 
said  that  they  should  receive  tobacco  on  condition 
that,  on  their  being  called  by  wireless  telegraphy, 

*57 


GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 


they  would  return  and  carry  me  to  Ekeikei.  They 
gave  me  their  word,  and  I took  the  risk  of  their 
keeping  it.  They  received  their  tobacco,  but  were 
in  no  apparent  hurry  to  depart.  In  fact,  they  stayed 
two  whole  days,  got  over  their  first  shyness,  and 
cheered  us  up  wonderfully — indeed,  it  was  “roaring 
camp  ! ” Growing  bolder,  they  pried  into  everything, 
and  the  house  was  always  full.  There  was  great 
coming  and  going  with  the  Dinawa  people,  with  whom 
the  Ibala  people  were  related  by  marriage,  and  the 
nights  were  musical  with  unceasing  mountain  choruses. 

Nothing  would  content  them  but  they  must  see 
everything  that  the  white  men  possessed,  and  it  was 
very  amusing  to  watch  the  men  calling  the  women’s 
attention  to  anything  that  particularly  attracted  them. 
They  felt  our  clothes  and  looked  with  curiosity  at 
our  photographs.  In  their  power  of  appreciating  and 
understanding  a picture,  one  could  realise  how  much 
higher  in  the  social  scale  they  were  than  their  neigh- 
bours, the  Australian  aborigines,  to  whom  drawing  was 
unintelligible.  They  would  pick  out  the  portraits  of 
Dinawa  characters,  and  exclaim  with  great  delight,  “Ow- 
bow — Doboi — Martu,”  as  the  case  might  be.  I gave 
some  additional  tobacco  to  each  man  who  would  con- 
sent to  stand  for  his  photograph,  but  they  never  quite 
got  over  their  shyness  of  the  camera.  Sometimes, 
when  I had  got  everything  fixed  and  ready,  my  sitter 
would  get  up  and  walk  slowly  away ; some  of  the 
women  faced  the  lens,  but  even  when  doing  so,  they 
would  often  cover  their  faces.  Our  visitors  did  not 
understand  guns,  so  we  took  care  not  to  frighten 
them  with  firearms. 

158 


GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 

On  the  third  day,  about  ten  in  the  morning,  they 
announced  that  they  were  going.  They  got  together 
the  bags  in  which  a Papuan  carries  his  effects,  packed 
up  their  new  acquisitions,  and  did  a little  business 
with  the  Dinawa  people  in  small  articles  I had  traded 
with  the  villagers,  such  as  matches,  tobacco,  or  an 
axe,  the  greatest  of  treasures — for  “trade,”  in  the 
Papuan  sense,  had  not  reached  Ibala.  I myself  made 
a few  purchases  from  them,  chiefly  of  clubs,  for 
which  I gave  in  exchange  some  small  knives.  To 
the  Dinaw'a  people  they  gave  some  sugar-cane,  which 
was  greedily  snapped  up  by  our  destitute  neighbours. 
Then  they  formed  up,  shook  hands  most  cordially 
with  us  all,  took  the  route,  and  disappeared  into  the 
forest,  a party  of  men  in  front,  the  women  in  the 
centre  carrying  the  loads,  and  another  party  of  braves 
bringing  up  the  rear.  For  a long  time  their  shouts 
came  echoing  back  to  us  through  the  trees.  It  was 
a most  pleasant  interlude,  and  when  these  cheerful 
fellows  were  gone  we  felt  the  camp  almost  painfully 
quiet. 

One  or  two  incidents  occurred  to  break  the  mono- 
tony of  the  remaining  days.  While  I was  collecting, 
close  to  the  Aculama,  I heard  the  missionary  dog 
barking  in  great  excitement,  and  discovered  that  he 
had  seen  a tremendous  snake.  This  I shot  in  the 
head  and  brought  into  camp,  where,  on  measuring  it, 
I found  it  to  be  18  feet  long  and  4 inches  in  diameter. 
It  was  of  a non-poisonous  variety — one  of  those 
snakes  that  live  on  the  small  arboreal  mammals.  I 
still  retain  the  skin  and  skeleton  as  trophies.  Even 
minor  incidents  of  these  dull  days  seemed  worthy  of 

159 


GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 


setting  down,  and  I note  in  my  diary  that  one  day  one 
of  my  native  carriers,  who  was  going  off  to  the  river, 
demanded  a gun.  When  I explained  to  him  that  he 
could  not  have  one,  he  remarked  with  great  non- 
chalance, “ Maw-mo-na  yow  valeo  dorka” — “Enough, 
I understand  very  well,”  and  he  went  off  contentedly 
without  firearms. 

I must  not  conclude  my  account  of  Dinawa  with- 
out mentioning  what  was  perhaps  the  greatest  of  its 
natural  attractions — the  almost  overpowering  magnifi- 
cence of  its  sunsets.  From  the  ridge  I have  watched 
every  variety  of  colour,  ranging  from  amber,  gold,  and 
orange,  through  purple  and  violet,  to  delicate  shades 
of  mauve,  green,  and  pink — in  fact,  every  hue  of  the 
prismatic  spectrum  was  flung  in  magnificent  profusion 
across  the  sky  from  horizon  to  zenith.  On  certain 
nights  the  whole  landscape  would  be  bathed  in  a 
glow  of  reflected  crimson.  It  seemed  as  if  the  world 
were  on  fire.  Even  the  vegetation  was  dyed  a vivid 
red,  and  as  the  rim  of  the  sun  gradually  disappeared, 
the  tints  melted  to  paler  shades  before  they  vanished. 
A brief  period  of  starless  twilight  succeeded,  and 
then  the  firmament  was  gemmed  with  a million  spark- 
ling points,  and  the  tropic  night  reigned  serene  in 
its  marvel  and  mystery.  Many  and  many  a time  I 
have  sat  in  rapt  enjoyment  of  that  gorgeous  spectacle, 
watching  the  constellations  wheel  westward  until  the 
dawn  overtook  and  hid  them. 

The  day  for  our  departure  now  began  to  draw 
very  near.  All  the  specimens  were  safely  packed, 
but  the  question  of  transport  pressed  more  and  more 
heavily.  From  the  Dinawa  people,  as  I have  noted, 

160 


Some  of  the  tree  ferns  grow  to  a height  of  40  feet. 


GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 


little  help  was  to  be  expected.  The  fittest  of  the 
men  were  abroad  in  the  forest  on  foraging  expedi- 
tions, and  when  we  asked  the  women  to  carry  for 
us,  they  replied  that  they  could  not  come  while  their 
husbands  were  away.  We  sent  out  our  boys  to  see 
what  they  could  do  in  the  surrounding  country,  but 
they  invariably  came  back  to  report  that  they  could 
recruit  very  few  men.  We  ourselves,  after  a great 
deal  of  wearisome  tramping  from  village  to  village, 
managed  to  enlist  a meagre  band  of  five  fairly  able- 
bodied  assistants,  but  our  party  was  still  very  inade- 
quate. This  was  on  September  22.  A few  days  earlier, 
in  pursuance  of  the  compact  the  Ibala  people  had 
made  with  me,  I had  set  the  telegraph  in  motion,  and 
told  Fa-lo-foida  to  call  up  Keakamana,  Keakamana 
to  call  up  Tapua,  and  so  on  stage  by  stage  to  the 
distant  home  of  my  picturesque  mountaineers,  to 
tell  them  that  the  time  had  come  to  redeem  their 
promise  and  earn  the  tobacco  advanced  on  personal 
security  alone.  The  calling  accordingly  began,  and 
in  less  than  ten  minutes  Ibala  of  the  five  days’ 
journey  had  received  my  summons.  During  the  after- 
noon the  answer  arrived.  Ibala  was  willing  and 
would  come.  Accordingly,  close  to  the  time  fixed 
for  our  departure — September  23 — we  were  cheered 
by  the  return  of  our  merry  friends,  who  came  like 
the  honourable  gentlemen  they  were  to  discharge 
their  obligation. 

Even  with  this  reinforcement  we  were  still  under- 
manned, and  decided  to  start  with  only  half  the 
baggage,  leaving  Gaberio  behind  to  see  to  the  de- 
spatch of  the  other  half  when  the  bearers  should  be 

163 


GOOD-BYE  TO  DINAWA 


sent  back.  On  September  23,  at  9 a.m.,  we  started 
for  Ekeikei.  At  twelve  we  halted  at  Madui,  where 
the  natives  wished  to  sleep ; but  this,  of  course,  was 
out  of  the  question,  so  we  pushed  on.  As  far  as 
Madui  the  drought  still  prevailed.  After  that  point 
it  was  damp,  but  not  wet.  In  one  way  the  drought 
had  served  us  well,  for  all  the  leeches  had  died  and 
we  were  saved  from  that  pest ; but  the  scrub-itch 
was  worse  than  ever,  especially  after  we  passed 
Ekeikei.  We  reached  the  Bamboo  Camp  after  a hard 
march  at  7 p.m.,  and  both  we  and  our  followers  were 
thoroughly  tired  out.  Next  day  we  went  by  way  of 
Ekeikei  to  Epa,  when  our  friends  from  Ibala  went 
back,  having  performed  their  undertaking.  We  found 
Epa  terribly  parched,  and  it  presented  a very  different 
aspect  to  that  which  we  had  seen  three  months 
earlier.  Thence  we  proceeded  to  Oofafa,  where  our 
old  acquaintance  Mavai  saw  us  through  with  our 
impedimenta.  We  travelled  by  boat  to  Pokama,  where 
we  got  on  board  a small  cutter  and  set  sail  for  Port 
Moresby.  Unfortunately,  we  encountered  very  heavy 
weather,  and  had  to  beat  up  to  our  destination  under 
a lashing  south-east  monsoon.  We  shipped  many 
seas,  and  thus  lost  our  fine  herbarium,  all  the  plants 
in  which  were  blackened  by  salt  water.  This  was  an 
irreparable  misfortune,  and  most  disheartening  after 
the  tremendous  trouble  we  had  taken  in  collecting 
and  drying  our  specimens  of  Papuan  flora. 


164 


CHAPTER  VIII 

INACTION  AND  AN  EXCURSION 

Period  of  Inaction  at  Port  Moresby — Christmas  in  New  Guinea 
— A Scratch  Dinner — A Christmas  Privilege  for  Cingalese  to 
obtain  Spirits — Curious  Effect  on  One  Individual — A Note- 
worthy Character — An  Excursion  to  Hula — A Fisher  Com- 
munity— A Piebald  People — Picturesque  Night  Fishing  by 
Flare  Light — Fishermen  often  Killed  by  Gare-fish — Hula 
Houses — Various  Traits  of  Native  Life — A Walk  round  Hood’s 
Bay — Traces  of  Initiatory  Rites  at  Kalo — The  Kalo  Houses 
described — On  to  Kerapuna — A Shooting  Expedition — We  lose 
the  Trail — Class  Distinctions  at  Kerapuna — Return  to  Port 
Moresby  by  Sea — A Perilous  Voyage  in  a Little  Canoe — 
Tragic  Death  of  Flood,  the  Naturalist. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


INACTION  AND  AN  EXCURSION 

As  there  was  really  nothing  to  be  done  until  the 
beginning  of  the  year,  we  settled  down  at  Port 
Moresby  in  some  spare  rooms  which  Sam,  my 
Cingalese  head-man,  let  me  have  in  his  house. 

We  occupied  our  time  with  the  despatch  of  our 
collections.  The  herbarium,  of  course,  had  perished, 
but  the  moths,  butterflies,  and  birds  had  come  safely 
down  from  Dinawa.  We  did  not  disturb  the  boxes 
already  packed,  but  merely  stowed  them  in  large 
cases,  packing  them  with  cocoanut  fibre  and  straw 
to  resist  concussion.  Each  box  was  tin-lined,  and 
on  receiving  its  full  complement  was  soldered  up. 

For  the  procuring  of  empty  cases  I was  greatly 
obliged  to  the  courtesy  of  Mr.  Ballantine,  the  Curator 
of  the  Intestate  Office  at  Port  Moresby.  This  work 
occupied  us  in  all  over  a fortnight,  and  finally  we 
despatched  our  collections  to  England  by  way  of 
Australia. 

Thereafter  the  days  were  very  dull  and  uneventful. 
Christmas  was  fast  approaching,  but  there  was  very 
little  hope  of  its  being  a merry  one — for  us,  at  any 
rate.  The  stores  of  provisions  were  running  very 
short,  and  our  Christmas  dinner  was  probably  one 
of  the  queerest  that  was  ever  set  before  an  exiled 
Britisher.  I left  the  task  of  preparing  the  meal 

167 


INACTION  AND  AN  EXCURSION 


entirely  to  Sam,  who  managed  somehow  to  procure  some 
wallaby,  a piece  of  bacon,  and  biscuits.  Instead  of 
pudding  we  had  a Cingalese  plum-cake,  made  by  Sam’s 
daughter,  and  a glass  of  claret  rounded  off  the  banquet. 
Harry  and  I dined  together  on  the  verandah,  and 
remembered  absent  friends,  but  we  were  not  very 
festive. 

There  is  one  curious  observance  of  the  Port 
Moresby  Christmas  which  may  be  worthy  of  mention 
here.  At  that  season  any  Cingalese  resident  in  the 
place  may,  on  obtaining  a Government  permit,  be 
served  with  spirits  at  the  Stores. 

The  effect  of  this  privilege  on  one  Port  Moresby 
worthy  was  truly  deplorable.  I saw  him  in  the  road, 
and  I have  little  doubt  that  he  saw  more  than  one  of 
me,  but  then,  of  course,  it  was  a year  since  he  had 
permission  before.  He  was  quite  a character,  and  his 
residence  was  as  peculiar  as  himself.  It  was  built 
entirely  of  flattened  paraffin  tins  and  other  oddments, 
a style  of  architecture  which  I have  also  noticed  in 
the  West  Indies. 

Another  Port  Moresby  character  was  Weaver,  the 
greengrocer ; he  has  a history,  but  no  man  knows  it, 
and  it  is  popularly  reported  that  he  has  a family  in 
Australia.  He  has  been  in  New  Guinea  for  some 
years,  and  lives  quite  alone  in  an  isolated  district  where 
he  built  a house  and  took  up  some  land.  He  stands 
6 feet  2 inches,  and  is  a curious  eccentric  fellow  whom 
nobody  understands.  He  does  not  care  for  visitors, 
and  has  even  been  known  to  threaten  distinguished 
personages  with  his  gun  when  they  dared  to  knock 
at  his  door!  Twice  a week  Weaver  brings  in  his 

168 


A PIEBALD  TRIBE  : THE  MOTU-MOTU  PEOPLE  OF  HOOD’S  BAY,  AXD  A 
TYPICAL  KALO  HOUSE. 

The  piebald  people  are  one  of  the  mysteries  of  New  Guinea,  and  their  origin  is  unex- 
plained. The  spear  m the  warrior’s  hand  is  made  of  hard  redwood,  sharpened  and 
has  no  metal.  1 he  house  is  built  on  an  open  wooden  framework,  and  the  flooring 
of  the  dwelling-room  begins  at  the  bottom  of  the  closed-in  gable.  On  this  inflam- 

hlarH  HTh’  the  |hatch  the>’  actuaI1y  have  a fire  on  a mud 

hearth.  The  slanting  pole  is  a ladder  tor  the  inhabitants.  In  some  cases  they 
have  little  ladders  for  the  dogs.  * 


INACTION  AND  AN  EXCURSION 


vegetables,  packed  on  two  ponies,  and  sells  them  to 
Europeans  at  Port  Moresby.  It  is  said  that  he  is 
accumulating  money.  He  is  perfectly  independent, 
and  quite  a character ; utterly  illiterate,  he  has  the 
dogged  opinions  which  usually  accompany  lack  of 
education.  He  believes  in  himself,  has  no  one  to  help 
him  in  his  work,  and  tells  you  quite  frankly  that  he 
thinks  he  could  run  New  Guinea  better  than  any  one. 
On  all  subjects  under  the  sun  the  opinion  of  Weaver 
is  absolutely  right  and  that  of  the  world  absolutely 
wrong. 

As  the  days  dragged  on  Harry  and  I thought  we 
would  vary  the  monotony  of  our  life,  and  obtain  a 
change  of  diet,  by  taking  a small  excursion  down  to 
Hula,  the  great  fishing-place.  By  the  courtesy  of  a 
trader,  who  was  going  down  in  a whaleboat,  we 
obtained  a passage.  A voyage  of  a few  hours  took  us 
down,  and  we  found  the  village  fairly  large,  built  like 
Hanuabada,  only  most  of  the  houses  stood  in  the 
water  on  piles.  The  shore  is  thickly  fringed  with 
cocoanut  plantations.  The  people,  who  belong  to  the 
Motuan  tribe,  as  those  of  Hanuabada  do,  live  by  supply- 
ing the  inland  natives  with  fish.  They  go  down  to  the 
fishing-ground,  about  two  miles  from  shore,  in  small 
dug-out  canoes,  and  this  industry  affords  a very  de- 
lightful touch  of  colour  to  the  scenery  of  this  part  of 
the  Papuan  coast.  The  fishing  is  done  at  night,  and 
just  as  the  sun  sinks  the  canoes  come  up  past  Plula 
in  great  crowds.  In  each  boat  are  four  or  five  fisher- 
men, who  pole  up  the  shallows  and  paddle  when  they 
come  to  deeper  water.  As  the  darkness  deepens  the 
flotilla  suddenly  bursts  into  flame,  for  their  method  of 

171 


INACTION  AND  AN  EXCURSION 


attracting  gare-fish,  which  is  their  chief  quarry,  is  by 
burning  huge  flares  of  dried  palm  leaves.  Each  of 
these  flares  is  made  up  of  a considerable  bundle  of 
leaves,  and  the  men  brandish  them  about  in  their 
hands.  The  light  lasts  for  a considerable  time.  The 
effect  of  these  many  fires,  reflected  in  long  tracks  on 
the  water,  is  extremely  picturesque.  The  fishing 
lasts  all  night,  and  at  dawn  the  fleet  returns  with  its 
catch. 

The  work  is  not  unattended  with  danger,  for  some- 
times the  gare-fish,  which  are  armed  with  a sharp 
sword-like  projection  of  bone  from  the  front  part  of  the 
head,  will,  as  they  leap  in  blind  terror  of  the  light, 
strike  the  fishermen  and  kill  them.  The  natives  set 
up  a stick  in  the  water  where  any  one  has  been  killed 
by  gare-fish. 

Another  interesting  feature  of  Hula  wras  the  pre- 
sence there  of  a piebald  people.  For  the  most  part 
their  bodies  were  brown,  but  they  were  marked  with 
pinkish  patches  unevenly  distributed.  It  is  not  im- 
probable that  this  marking  might  be  due  to  a disease, 
contracted  from  a too  constant  fish  diet,  but  if  it  were 
a disease  I could  not  discover  that  it  gave  any  discom- 
fort. Against  this  theory  must  be  set  this  fact,  that  I 
observed  one  man  in  whom  the  light  markings  pre- 
dominated. In  fact,  he  was  quite  fresh-coloured,  like 
a European,  and  had  light  hair.  These  piebald  people 
were  not  a class  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  Hula 
villagers,  but  shared  their  life  in  every  respect. 

The  piles  on  which  the  Hula  houses  are  built  look 
quite  insufficient  to  support  the  superstructure.  The 
pitch  of  the  gables  is  not  always  uniform  in  the 

172 


INACTION  AND  AN  EXCURSION 

same  house,  and  in  these  cases  the  ridge  pole  is  not 
horizontal. 

Before  we  came  to  Hula,  however,  we  had  paid  a visit 
to  Kappa-Kappa,  one  of  the  very  few  localities  in  New 
Guinea  that  show  any  immediate  result  of  missionary 
effort  and  of  a direct  attempt  to  introduce  the  methods 
of  civilisation.  There  resides  the  agent  of  the  London 
Missionary  Society,  Dr.  Laws,  who  has  been  perhaps 
longer  in  British  New  Guinea  than  any  other  white 
man,  for  his  stay  now  extends  over  thirty  years.  The 
missionary  has  a fine  house  standing  on  a slight  ele- 
vation and  commanding  a magnificent  view  to  the 
north  and  south.  A remarkably  fine  road  leads  up 
to  Dr.  Laws’  residence,  and  300  yards  away  is  the 
Christian  village,  built  in  detached  houses  along  the 
rise  and  forming  a regular  street.  We  were  very 
much  amused  to  notice  that  the  houses  were  all 
numbered,  and  that  many  of  them  had  Scotch  names 
inscribed  on  a little  piece  of  wood  fastened  over  the 
door. 

There  were  about  sixty  houses  in  all,  and  a 
really  fine  church  and  school.  This  last  we  visited  and 
heard  the  children  sing.  They  gave  not  at  all  a bad 
performance  for  coast  natives,  to  whose  discordant 
tones  I have  already  alluded,  and  if  my  good  friends, 
the  mountain  people,  with  their  beautiful  voices  and 
their  fine  idea  of  music,  had  had  the  same  training,  the 
effect  would  have  been  little  short  of  charming.  We 
saw  the  place  at  a slight  disadvantage,  for  the  drought 
had  greatly  withered  the  vegetation,  and  Dr.  Laws’ 
fine  orange  trees  were  all  dead.  The  natives,  I was 
glad  to  see,  wore  their  ordinary  dress,  and  no  ridiculous 

173 


INACTION  AND  AN  EXCURSION 

attempt  had  been  made  to  thrust  them  into  European 
clothes.  Dr.  Laws  did  everything  in  his  power  to 
render  our  visit  pleasant,  and  to  him  and  his  wife 
we  are  indebted  for  much  kind  hospitality.  There 
is  much  that  is  enviable  in  his  pleasant  dwelling- 
place,  and  he  seems  to  be  on  excellent  terms  with 
the  natives.  As  I have  elsewhere  had  occasion  to 
remark,  it  is  doubtful  whether  this  generation  of 
Papuans  is  capable  of  much  spiritual  enlightenment 
at  the  missionary’s  hands,  but  the  seeds  of  industrial 
progress  at  any  rate  are  being  sown,  and  the  order 
and  apparent  prosperity  of  Kappa-Kappa  say  much 
for  the  work  of  the  pioneer.  There  is  no  Paradise, 
however,  without  its  serpent,  and  the  scourge  of  Kappa- 
Kappa  is  the  black  snake,  which  attacks  the  natives. 

The  poison  is  most  virulent,  and  Dr.  Laws  told  me 
that  if  he  could  see  the  sufferer  immediately  he  could 
save  him,  but  if  only  a few  minutes  elapse  before  help 
is  available  death  must  inevitably  ensue  within  an 
hour.  This  snake  also  kills  the  missionary’s  horses, 
which  it  invariably  bites  on  the  instep.  He  keeps  the 
horses  for  his  little  trap,  in  which,  at  the  close  of  our 
visit,  he  drove  us  down  to  the  coast,  a distance  of 
about  four  miles. 

Besides  the  things  I have  mentioned,  we  found  little 
else  to  interest  us  in  Hula,  and  after  a short  stay  we 
set  off  to  walk  round  Hood’s  Bay  to  Kalo,  the  next 
village  of  any  importance,  situated  a little  way  from 
the  coast.  On  the  way  we  passed  the  little  village  of 
Babacca,  the  headquarters  of  a copra  trader  called 
Joher. 

Formerly  Kalo  was  the  centre  of  strange  cere- 

174 


INACTION  AND  AN  EXCURSION 


monial  dances,  connected  with  the  worship  of  the 
reproductive  powers  of  Nature. 

Initiatory  rites  were  celebrated,  and  the  orgies 
taken  part  in  by  the  young  men  and  women  were 
often  of  the  most  indecorous  character.  By  the 
decree  of  a paternal  Government  these  celebrations 
have  now  ceased  to  exist.  It  is  possible  that  they 
were  accompanied  by  cannibalism,  but  I am  not  aware 
that  there  is  any  proof  of  this.  Descriptions  are 
extant,  but  it  is  doubtful  whether  these  have  been 
given  at  first  hand,  for  the  natives  would  certainly 
not  have  admitted  visitors  to  their  mysteries. 

The  houses  at  Kalo  are  the  most  substantial  I saw 
in  New  Guinea.  They  were  built  upon  9-inch 
posts  and  were  raised  10  or  11  feet  off  the  ground. 
It  was  extraordinary  to  me  how  these  posts  were 
secured,  the  soil  seemed  so  loose  and  sandy ; about 
one-third  distance  up  occurred  a cross-piece,  above 
which  there  were  two  others.  The  lower  parallelogram 
thus  formed  was  crossed  by  two  diagonal  pieces  of 
bamboo,  the  third  and  upper  parallelogram  by  one 
diagonal  piece ; these  were  the  steps  giving  access  to 
the  house,  and  their  arrangements  will  be  easily  under- 
stood by  reference  to  the  photograph.  The  third 
cross-piece,  above  which  the  gable  is  enclosed,  marks 
the  level  of  the  floor.  There  was  an  open  verandah 
at  one  end,  and  the  house  had  only  one  room.  The 
house  was  eaved,  and  was  thatched  with  flag-grass, 
and  the  whole  structure  measured  30  feet  by  15 
feet.  On  the  inflammable  floor,  within  the  thatch, 
they  actually  have  a fire  on  a mud  hearth.  The 
strangest  sight  of  all  was  the  elaborate  carvings  hung 

175  1 


INACTION  AND  AN  EXCURSION 


up  outside,  and  it  was  a singular  thing  that  no  two 
houses  at  Kalo  bore  carvings  of  the  same  pattern. 

We  stayed  only  a few  hours  at  Kalo,  and  then 
went  on  to  Kerapuna,  where  we  arrived  about  dusk 
after  a long  day’s  march.  At  one  point  our  advance 
was  barred  by  a small  river,  very  still  and  muddy 
and  fringed  with  rank  vegetation,  the  whole  aspect 
of  the  place  proclaiming  it  the  haunt  of  the  crocodile. 
It  would  have  saved  time  had  we  swum  across,  but 
the  mere  look  of  the  place  obviously  made  it  unwise 
to  do  so,  so  we  fetched  a slight  detour  until  we  came 
to  a little  village  where  we  were  able  to  hire  a canoe. 

Kerapuna  is  a fairly  large  fishing  village  on  the 
east  side  of  Hood’s  Lagoon,  just  within  the  entrance. 
It  possesses  its  missionary,  Mr.  Pearce,  who  lives  there 
with  his  wife  in  great  isolation.  It  is  many  years 
since  he  has  been  home,  and  it  is  not  often  that  a 
European  knocks  at  his  door.  With  him  we  found 
hospitality.  He  is  pleasantly  housed  and  seems  very 
comfortable  and  is  on  good  terms  with  the  natives, 
to  whose  spiritual  needs  he  ministers  in  a little  hall. 
It  is  doubtful  how  far  the  Papuan  can  be  reached 
through  theological  channels  at  this  stage  of  his 
development.  A great  deal,  however,  can  be  done 
towards  training  him  in  the  simpler  industries. 

From  Kerapuna  we  went  out  for  a short  shooting 
expedition  in  the  flat,  trackless  forest  that  lies  inland. 
The  region  is  very  gloomy ; tall  Pandanus  trees  with 
aerial  roots  and  thickly  matted  branches  obscure  the 
daylight,  but  there  is  no  dense  undergrowth.  There 
the  gaura  pigeon  abounds,  and  we  were  fortunate 
enough  to  shoot  some. 


176 


The  floor  of  the  house  is  on  a level  with  the  eaves. 


INACTION  AND  AN  EXCURSION 


The  little  expedition,  however,  was  rather  un- 
eventful, except  at  one  point,  where  we  discovered 
somewhat  to  our  anxiety  that  we  had  lost  the  trail. 
The  two  natives  we  had  brought  with  us  went,  one  to 
the  right  and  the  other  to  the  left,  searching  for  it, 
and  we  kept  shouting  to  each  other  all  the  time. 
At  last,  after  a couple  of  hours’  search,  we  found  the 
track,  which  would  have  been  visible  only  to  a Papuan, 
as  there  was  no  well-worn  path.  We  required  native 
guidance  also  to  get  us  back  to  the  creek  where  we 
had  left  our  canoe. 

If  there  were  no  division  between  the  piebald 
people  and  the  ordinary  inhabitants  of  Hula,  at  Kera- 
puna  we  noticed  a curious  class  distinction,  founded 
not  on  any  physical  peculiarity,  but  upon  the  mere 
question  of  occupation.  One  part  of  the  village  was 
occupied  by  the  fisher  tribe,  the  other  part  by  a 
purely  agricultural  people.  The  latter  were  extremely 
lazy,  and,  as  I have  noted  elsewhere,  the  lazier  Papuan 
tribes  are  never  fishermen,  and  always  employ  some 
more  active  people  to  do  this  work  for  them.  The 
tillers  of  the  soil  and  the  spoilers  of  the  sea  hold 
rigidly  aloof  from  one  another  at  Kerapuna,  and  only 
meet  on  the  common  ground  of  an  exchange  of  com- 
modities— the  fish  being  purchased  for  bananas  and 
cocoanuts.  Yet,  strangely  enough,  the  more  active 
tribe  was  evidently  there  on  sufferance,  and  was 
allowed  to  remain  only  because  of  the  fish  they  sup- 
plied. Another  remarkable  point  was,  that  the  fishing- 
populations  dwelt  on  land  and  not  on  pile-built  houses, 
as  at  Hula  and  Iianuabada.  In  this  district  we  could 
get  on  without  any  other  “trade”  than  tobacco. 

179 


INACTION  AND  AN  EXCURSION 


As  there  was  nothing  to  tempt  us  to  remain,  and 
as  Kerapuna,  even  at  the  best,  was  a dull  place,  we 
did  not  stay  longer  than  four  or  five  days.  I was 
very  anxious,  too,  to  get  back  to  Port  Moresby  to 
make  my  preparations  for  a second  journey  into  the 
interior  to  resume  my  work.  We  determined  to  make 
the  return  journey  by  water,  and  accordingly  hired  a 
little  canoe  from  a native,  who,  with  a companion, 
came  with  us  to  act  as  our  navigator. 

The  little  craft  was  hardly  more  than  18  inches 
wide,  and  just  held  the  four  of  us  in  a rather  cramped 
position.  We  set  our  course,  which  lay  twenty  miles 
across  Hood’s  Bay  to  Hula,  and  started  about  io  a.m. 
in  fine  weather.  When  we  had  got  about  half-way, 
however,  the  wind  rose,  and  a tremendous  swell  began 
to  come  in  from  the  point  where  the  reef  opens  sea- 
wards, and  very  soon  the  dug-out  was  dancing  like 
a cork  and  was  continually  shipping  seas,  so  that 
Harry  and  I had  to  bale  constantly. 

I must  say,  however,  that  our  natives  knew  how 
to  handle  their  craft,  and  were  very  expert  watermen. 
They  kept  the  little  square  sail  of  matting  under 
excellent  control,  and  steered  with  the  flat  of  a paddle 
from  the  side  at  the  stern.  Although  they  were  very 
frightened,  they  did  their  best,  and  kept  the  canoe’s 
head  up  to  the  seas  very  neatly.  For  a time,  I must 
confess,  I myself  was  doubtful  whether  we  should  get 
through  safely.  We  were  dripping  wet  and  in  rather 
a sorry  plight,  but  after  rounding  the  point  close  to 
Hula  we  got  into  calmer  water,  and  we  landed  safely, 
but  very  stiff  and  cold. 

Two  or  three  days  later  we  bade  good-bye  to  Hula, 

180 


INACTION  AND  AN  EXCURSION 


and  the  same  whaler’s  trading  boat  that  had  got  us 
down  took  us  back  to  Port  Moresby,  where  I at  once 
set  about  active  preparations  for  my  second  journey 
inland. 

On  my  return  to  Port  Moresby  I heard,  to  my 
great  regret,  the  news  of  the  death  of  Mr.  Flood,  the 
American  naturalist.  When  I went  up  to  Dinawa, 
while  on  my  first  journey,  I left  Flood  in  Port 
Moresby.  Some  time  after  he  went  up  the  Venapa 
River,  seeking  land  shells.  He  was  foolish  enough 
to  go  alone,  and  his  folly  was  the  greater  because 
he  was  very  deaf.  At  length  the  authorities  got 
alarmed  about  him,  and  Mr.  Ballantine  headed  a 
search  party,  but  the  only  trace  of  the  naturalist 
was  one  of  his  camp  fires.  It  is  thought  almost 
certain  that  he  may  either  have  strayed  away  and 
died  of  hunger,  or  he  may  have  been  devoured  by 
a crocodile.  It  was  not  the  first  time  that  a party 
had  gone  out  to  seek  Flood  after  his  prolonged  ab- 
sence had  given  cause  for  alarm,  and  it  was  doubly 
absurd  of  him  to  go  alone,  because,  even  with  Papuan 
attendants,  it  is  difficult — as  I myself  have  found — 
to  pick  up  the  trail  "when  once  it  has  been  lost.  I 
was  much  distressed  about  Flood,  for  he  was  a most 
unselfish  enthusiast  in  the  pursuit  of  science. 


1 8 1 


CHAPTER  IX 

TOWARDS  THE  UNEXPLORED 

Beginning  of  Furthest  Journey  into  Unexplored  Interior — 
The  Everlasting  Question  of  Carriers — Difficulties  and  Delays 
— Epa  again — Curious  Method  of  Water  Supply— Mavai  wel- 
comes us  back — He  provides  a Dubious  Treat — Ekeikei — The 
Building  of  a Permanent  Camp — An  Elaborate  Undertaking — 
House-building  on  a Large  Scale — Ingenious  Papuan  Methods 
of  Thatching — The  Chief  Kafulu  proves  Unneighbourly — He 
does  not  fulfil  his  Engagements — Ow-bow’s  Embassy — My 
Deputy  is  robbed — Precautions  in  Camp  against  Attack — I 
go  down  to  Kafulu  and  deal  faithfully  with  him — He  relents, 
and  restores  Ow-bow’s  Goods— An  Earthquake  and  Hurricane 
at  Ekeikei 


CHAPTER  IX 


TOWARDS  THE  UNEXPLORED 

On  January  i,  1903,  Harry  and  I left  Port  Moresby 
on  board  Captain  Pym’s  vessel,  the  Whaup.  This 
took  us  to  Yule  Island,  and  from  that  point  we 
proceeded  to  Pokama,  on  the  mainland.  There 
we  were  met  and  entertained  by  Cave,  a hospitable 
Papuan  woman,  widow  of  Captain  Williams,  a trader. 
She  has  a very  comfortable  bungalow  at  Pokama,  and 
keeps  a small  store,  where  she  does  business  with 
passing  traders,  who  are  always  welcome  at  her  house. 
She  also  owns  a small  light-draught  cutter,  which 
brings  sandalwood  down  from  Bioto  Creek,  and  this 
boat  she  is  willing  to  let  out  to  travellers.  She 
also  keeps  up  the  beautiful  gardens  and  fine  mango 
trees  planted  by  her  husband,  and  she  cultivates 
custard  apples  and  a delightful  fruit  known  as  Sour- 
sop.  It  is  the  shape  of  a kidney  and  about  the  size 
of  a pumpkin ; within  it  is  a mass  of  creamy  pulp, 
surrounding  black  seeds.  This  pulp  is  most  cooling, 
and  it  is  accompanied  by  a pleasantly  astringent  acid 
juice,  the  whole  fruit  forming  an  ideal  refreshment  for 
the  tropics. 

From  Pokama  we  went  by  canoe  to  Yule  Island, 
where  we  halted  at  the  Sacred  Heart  Mission,  and 
then  went  on  to  Aruopaka,  where  we  stayed  for 
several  days  in  the  house  of  Mr.  Russell.  Mr. 

185 


TOWARDS  THE  UNEXPLORED 

Russell  himself  was  absent,  but  we  joined  him  later 
at  Moa,  one  and  a half  hours’  row  from  Aruopaka, 
a voyage  which  we  made  in  our  host’s  whaleboat 
From  Moa  we  passed  by  way  of  Inawee,  Inawa,  and 
Inawabia  to  Aipiana,  the  Government  station,  where 
Mr,  Russell  entertained  us  for  five  days.  In  the 
curiously-named  villages  just  mentioned  we  tried  to 
collect  carriers,  and  at  this  juncture  I sent  Harry 
back  to  Pokama  to  bring  on  the  goods  we  had  left 
behind  us,  appointing  to  meet  him  at  Bioto.  During 
his  absence  Mr.  Russell  and  I went  to  the  southward 
through  other  villages  Rarai  and  Nara,  and  picked 
up  twenty  more  men.  On  our  way  through  these 
southern  villages  we  met  Captain  Barton,  then  the 
head  of  the  native  armed  constabulary,  and  now  the 
Administrator.  With  him  I spent  one  night,  and 
then  pushed  on  to  Bioto  with  my  thirty  bearers,  who, 
as  yet,  had  nothing  to  carry.  To  perform  the  journey 
adequately  I really  should  have  had  a force  of  seventy. 
At  Bioto  we  enlisted  a few,  but  our  numbers  were 
still  very  insufficient.  At  4 a.m.  in  the  morning 
after  my  arrival  at  Bioto,  Harry  rejoined  me,  and 
during  that  day  we  began  sending  the  baggage  by 
relays  to  Epa.  Harry  had  been  enabled  to  bring  all 
our  remaining  goods  with  him  through  the  kindness  of 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Dauncey,  who  had  lent  him  his  whale- 
boat. With  the  help  of  the  Chief  Constable,  who 
gave  us  the  use  of  his  canoe,  we  got  the  baggage 
along  to  Oofafa,  from  which  point  I was  assisted 
by  my  old  friend  Mavai,  who  sent  down  carriers  from 
Epa  to  take  the  stuff1  up  to  Ekeikei.  At  Bioto  the 
mosquitoes  were  at  this  time  a terror,  and  were 

186 


THE  VILLAGES  OF  K LEVADA  AXI)  H ANUABADA. 

The  latter  is  built  on  piles  in  the  water.  Its  inhabitants  are  the  potters  of  N’ew  Guinea. 


TOWARDS  THE  UNEXPLORED 


so  thick  that  one  could  hardly  put  food  in  one’s 
mouth  or  take  an  aim  with  a gun. 

While  we  passed  through  Epa  on  this  occasion, 
I noticed  specially  the  extraordinary  method  of  water- 
supply  there  in  vogue.  A spring  which  supplies  the 
community  was  distant  some  twenty  minutes’  walk 
down-hill,  and  twice  every  day,  in  the  morning  and 
just  before  dusk,  the  women  went  down  to  draw 
water.  This  they  carried  in  long  bamboos,  measur- 
ing at  least  12  feet.  The  partitions  dividing  the 
sections  of  bamboo  had  been  knocked  out  with  a 
long,  hard  stick,  the  bottom  one  was  allowed  to 
remain,  and  these  light  but  unwieldy  receptacles, 
capable  of  holding  about  thirty-six  pints  each,  were 
taken  to  the  spring  and  filled.  The  open  end  was 
plugged  with  a green  leaf,  and  the  women  carried 
the  vessels  up-hill  held  slantwise  over  their  shoulder. 
The  bamboo  was  set  up  against  a shady  wall,  beside 
the  house  door,  and  the  method  of  procuring  a small 
supply  of  water  was  comical  in  the  extreme.  When- 
ever you  wanted  a drink  two  people  had  to  officiate ; 
a native  took  hold  of  the  bamboo  by  the  lower  end 
and  you  proceeded  to  the  other.  It  was  then  gingerly 
lowered  towards  you,  for  the  greatest  care  had  to  be 
taken  not  to  tilt  it  too  far,  otherwise  more  water 
than  you  wanted  would  have  come  out  with  a rush 
and  drenched  you. 

On  my  reappearance  at  that  village  I was  very 
heartily  welcomed  by  the  chief.  I found  him  busily 
engaged  in  hunting  the  cassowary  and  the  pig, 
and  generally  keeping  up  his  reputation  of  a great 
sportsman. 


189 


TOWARDS  THE  UNEXPLORED 


During  this  visit  to  Mavai,  the  excellent  chief, 
who  kept  fowls,  presented  me  with  two  eggs ; these 
we  boiled  with  lively  anticipations  of  a treat,  but  we 
broke  the  shells  only  to  discover  that  the  eggs  were 
of  a remote  antiquity.  We  passed  them  on,  however, 
to  Ow-bow,  who  received  them  with  gratitude,  for 
he  regarded  chicken  in  this  form  as  a very  great 
delicacy  indeed. 

I purchased  some  sago  from  the  chief,  and  when 
we  got  bearers  together  I started  for  Ekeikei.  One 
day’s  journey  brought  us  to  our  destination,  which 
was  situated  1500  feet  above  sea  level,  on  the  foot- 
hills of  the  Owen  Stanley  range.  This  point  I had 
already  selected  in  my  mind  as  the  scene  of  my 
future  labours,  and  I at  once  set  about  building  a 
permanent  camp.  I chose  the  site  in  a part  of  the 
forest  overlooking  a fine  valley,  and  we  set  to  work 
speedily,  felling  the  forest  trees  to  make  the  necessary 
clearing.  It  was  a big  business,  much  bigger  than 
founding  our  establishment  at  Dinawa,  but  I intended 
to  erect  much  more  permanent  structures,  which  were 
to  be  built  large  enough  not  only  to  serve  for  scien- 
tific work,  but  as  a depot  for  expeditions  to  other 
districts.  The  house  and  two  collecting  verandahs 
were  all  in  one  building,  one  verandah  facing  the 
forest  and  the  other  the  valley,  so  as  to  permit  of 
work  being  carried  on  whatever  the  direction  of  the 
wind.  The  whole  structure  was  built  on  poles  6 feet 
6 inches  off  the  ground,  so  that  my  natives  could 
shelter,  sling  their  hammocks,  and  take  their  meals 
below.  This  work  occupied  us  three  weeks,  and  in 
it  we  were  assisted  by  Mavai’s  people,  who  were 

190 


TOWARDS  THE  UNEXPLORED 


helped  by  the  villagers  of  the  neighbouring  chief, 
Kafulu.  These  came  in  to  lend  a hand  for  the  sake 
of  tobacco  and  other  trade  articles  they  needed. 

The  best  thatch  to  be  obtained  in  Papua  is  the 
sago  leaf,  and  of  this  the  natives  make  roofs  that 
are  water-tight  and  very  durable.  At  Ekeikei  we 
adopted  this  method.  Along  the  rafters  of  our  house 
we  ran  horizontal  bamboos,  and  instead  of  a ridge- 
pole roof  we  had  two  of  these  bamboos  running  from 
end  to  end  a few  inches  apart.  The  frond  of  the 
sago  leaf  which  we  used  for  this  purpose  is  at  least 
4 feet  long;  it  measures  6 inches  at  the  base,  and 
tapers  to  a point.  To  begin  the  thatch,  one  takes 
the  leaf  and  bends  it  two-thirds  away  from  the  apex. 
One  starts  from  the  bamboo  horizontal  that  lies  nearest 
the  eaves,  and  hooks  the  leaf  over,  laying  the  pointed 
end  out.  On  the  next  higher  bamboo  one  hooks  over 
another  leaf,  similarly  folded,  so  that  its  long  pointed 
end  far  overlaps  the  other,  and  so  on  until  the  ridge 
of  the  roof  is  reached.  The  operation  is  thus  repeated 
until  the  whole  roof  is  thatched.  The  space  between 
the  two  parallels  which  form  the  ridge-pole  is  finally 
covered  with  grass  laid  thickly  across  and  across. 
The  sago  leaf  is  grooved  laterally,  and  forms,  as 
it  were,  a natural  water- spout  for  carrying  off  the 
rain. 

So  durable  is  this  roof  that  after  an  absence  of 
five  months  we  found  that  our  Ekeikei  house  was 
still  water-tight.  This  thatch  is,  however,  a great 
harbourage  for  cockroaches,  and  there  must  have  been 
millions  of  them  in  our  house.  At  night  we  could 
hear  them  rustling  among  the  dry  leaves.  I could 

191 


TOWARDS  THE  UNEXPLORED 


not  ascertain  that  they  had  done  any  actual  damage, 
and  they  had  the  grace  not  to  fall  down  upon  us. 

As  soon  as  the  camp  was  finished  we  settled 
down  to  our  old  routine  of  work,  very  similar  to  that 
observed  during  our  stay  at  Dinawa,  and  for  a time 
all  went  smoothly.  But  suddenly  a cloud  loomed 
upon  our  horizon  in  the  shape  of  our  neighbour 
Kafulu.  This  worthy,  whose  village  was  an  hour’s 
journey  off,  had  often  visited  the  camp  while  the 
building  was  in  progress.  He  was  a very  low  type 
of  Papuan,  with  a receding  forehead  and  a face 
altogether  ape-like.  After  his  people,  who  helped 
me  in  my  building  operations,  had  been  paid  off,  I 
did  a little  business  with  the  chief  himself,  and 
ordered  sago  stalks  for  wattling  the  sides  of  the 
house.  For  these  I paid  in  advance,  but  the  sago 
was  not  forthcoming.  I made  no  complaint  at  first, 
and  this  probably  deceived  him  into  thinking  I 
might  be  treated  with  further  contumely,  for  he 
suddenly  began  to  threaten  my  boys,  until  at  last 
they  would  no  longer  venture  out  into  the  forest 
to  collect.  Accordingly,  I sent  my  trusty  advocate 
Ow-bow  and  his  wife  down  to  Kafulu’s  village  to 
know  the  reason  why  he  did  not  deliver  the  sago, 
which  was  several  weeks  overdue.  Ow-bow  was 
allowed  to  take  a gun  with  him,  but  no  cartridges, 
and  his  empty  weapon  evidently  was  not  impressive. 
My  emissary’s  experience  was  painful ; Kafulu  did 
not  take  his  life,  but  he  took  his  effects.  Now, 
every  Papuan  carries  with  him  as  his  most  cherished 
possession  a little  net-bag,  containing  a charming 
collection  of  oddments  dear  to  the  savage  mind — his 

192 


Our  house  at  Ekeikci  under  construction. 


TOWARDS  THE  UNEXPLORED 


knife,  tobacco,  bamboo  pipe,  matches,  which  he  had 
earned,  betel-nut  and  gourd,  and  little  trophies  of 
the  chase.  All  these  Kafulu  took  from  the  unfor- 
tunate Ow-bow,  as  well  as  his  blanket,  his  dogs’ 
teeth  necklace,  and  other  adornments.  Thus  bereft, 
Ow-bow  executed  a strategic  movement  to  the  rear, 
and  returned  to  camp  with  his  tale  of  wrong.  Kafulu 
then  sent  in  a polite  message  informing  me  that  he 
had  no  intention  of  sending  the  sago,  and  further, 
that  I was  not  to  shoot  bird,  kangaroo,  wallaby,  or 
any  game  around  my  camp,  for  they  were  his  animals ; 
otherwise  he  would  burn  the  camp  and  kill  us  all. 

As  matters  stood  thus,  I considered  that  greater 
precautions  were  necessary,  especially  as  I knew  that 
Kafulu  had  recently  broken  into  and  robbed  the 
mission-house  at  Ekeikei,  for  it  was  more  than  likely 
that  a treacherous  spear  might,  in  the  darkness,  pene- 
trate the  thin  sago  walls  of  our  house,  and  perhaps 
find  its  billet.  We  accordingly  built  around  our  beds 
an  inner  screen  of  i^-inch  bamboo  poles,  and  even 
though  a missile  had  penetrated  the  thin  sago  walls, 
it  would  have  been  stopped  by  this  barricade. 

Matters  did  not  improve,  and  accordingly,  taking 
Harry  and  Sam  with  me,  I determined  to  go  down 
and  try  what  a little  plain  personal  dealing  could 
accomplish  with  our  agreeable  neighbour.  I found 
him  in  his  village,  sitting  apart,  smoking  the  bau-hau, 
and  extremely  surly.  He  gave  us  no  greeting,  in 
fact,  took  not  the  slightest  notice  of  us,  and  con- 
tinued to  smoke  stolidly.  We  sat  down,  and  I at 
once  opened  the  affair,  Sam  and  Harry  acting  as  my 
interpreters.  I told  Kafulu  that  unless  he  sent  the 

195 


TOWARDS  THE  UNEXPLORED 


sago  at  once,  and  returned  Ow-bow’s  goods,  it  would 
be  necessary  for  me  to  bring  pressure  to  bear  on  him. 
This  was  continued  for  three-quarters  of  an  hour, 
entirely  on  my  part,  for  it  was  not  until  that  time 
had  elapsed  that  Kafulu  deigned  to  reply.  He  then 
remarked  that  he  did  not  want  me  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  that  he  could  not  answer  for  it  that  his 
villagers  would  not  wipe  us  out.  At  the  end  of  an 
hour  he  showed  some  signs  of  relenting,  but  the 
victory  was  not  yet  won.  The  parley  still  continued, 
and  Kafulu  resumed  his  pipe,  whereupon  I gave  him 
some  tobacco,  which  he  took  without  thanks.  At  the 
end  of  three  hours  certain  arguments,  which  I thought 
proper  to  use,  prevailed,  and  he  produced  some  of 
Ow-bow’s  goods.  Ow-bow  remarked  that  that  was  not 
all,  whereupon  Kafulu  promised  to  send  everything, 
to  deliver  the  sago,  and  also  that  he  would  not 
frighten  our  collectors  any  more.  With  this  assur- 
ance we  shook  hands  upon  it  and  I returned  to 
camp. 

Two  days  after  the  sago  arrived,  and  in  four  days 
the  whole  of  Ow-bow’s  possessions  were  returned. 
They  were  brought  in  by  some  of  Kafulu’s  villagers 
and  handed  to  their  owner  without  comment.  There- 
after, as  far  as  I could  see,  Kafulu  lived  a sober, 
righteous,  and  godly  life.  I am  not  sure,  however, 
although  he  committed  no  overt  act  of  hostility,  that 
he  was  not  the  instigator  of  some  trouble  which  I had 
at  a later  period  with  the  Madui  people. 

During  our  stay  at  Ekeikei  we  experienced  an 
earthquake  shock,  not  great  but  sufficiently  alarming. 
There  were  two  distinct  shocks,  which  shook  the  house 

196 


IN  THE  PRIMEVAL  FOREST. 


TOWARDS  THE  UNEXPLORED 


violently,  and  the  phenomenon  was  peculiar  inasmuch 
as  it  was  not  heralded  by  any  preliminary  rumblings 
as  is  usually  the  case.  Many  of  the  other  atmospheric 
signs  usually  accompanying  an  earthquake  were,  how- 
ever, present.  There  was  a tremendous  and  oppressive 
heat  with  death-like  stillness ; the  skies  were  inky 
black,  and  there  was  a perfect  deluge  of  rain,  so 
heavy  that  it  could  easily  have  been  described  as  pour- 
ing down  in  bucketfuls.  Then  the  heavens  opened 
with  what  seemed  to  be  rivers  of  lightning,  for  the  dis- 
charges resembled  great  main  streams  with  thousands 
of  fiery  affluents,  and  all  around  us  the  thunder  crashed 
terrifically,  seeming  at  times  as  if  it  were  inside  the 
house.  For  three-quarters  of  an  hour  there  was  no 
cessation  of  the  din.  A tree  just  below  our  verandah 
was  struck  and  split  from  top  to  bottom,  but  fortu- 
nately no  one  was  injured. 

After  the  worst  of  the  storm  had  passed,  a fierce 
hurricane  came,  tearing  up  the  valley  which  our  camp 
faced.  We  heard  its  roaring  long  before  we  felt 
its  force.  When  it  came  it  blew  off  some  of  the  thatch 
of  one  of  our  buildings.  We  were  to  a certain  extent 
protected  from  its  full  force  by  the  large  trees  around 
us,  and  at  the  same  time  we  were  saved  from  the 
danger  of  falling  trees,  because,  with  a view  to  the 
emergencies  of  such  storms,  we  had  taken  care  to  fell 
all  the  larger  trees  for  a considerable  distance  around 
our  camp.  The  effect  of  the  on-coming  wind  heard 
at  a distance  had  another  weird  parallel  in  the  onset 
of  rain  storms,  for  we  heard  the  rush  and  patter  of  a 
distant  shower  long  before  it  was  actually  raining  at 
our  camp. 


199 


K 


TOWARDS  THE  UNEXPLORED 

At  Ekeikei  were  swarms  of  wasps  that  haunted  the 
low  bushes,  and  concealed  themselves  under  the  leaves 
so  cunningly  that  the  traveller  did  not  perceive  them 
till  he  was  actually  upon  them.  Their  bodies  are  a 
dark  yellowish  brown.  At  the  least  disturbance  they  all 
rise  together  in  a buzzing  cloud  and  take  vengeance. 
The  sting  is  severe,  but  the  pain  fortunately  does  not 
last  long.  It  dies  out  in  six  or  seven  minutes,  leaving 
a red  lump  which  gradually  subsides. 


200 


CHAPTER  X 


UPS  AND  DOWNS 

My  man  Sam  goes  to  the  Kebea  to  collect — We  go  to  the  Coast 
again  with  our  Specimens — A Dreadful  Night  in  Bioto  Creek — 
A Crocodile  River — A Tempestuous  Voyage  to  Thursday  Island 
— Fever — Return  to  Port  Moresby — Adrift  for  Three  Days  in  a 
Heavy  Sea— A German  Captain’s  Thrilling  Story  of  the  Storm 
— We  return  to  Ekeikei  — A New  Trouble — Epidemic  of 
Measles  among  Native  Followers — Harry  goes  off  alone  among 
Cannibals — Adventurous  Journey  of  a Boy  of  Sixteen — Descrip- 
tion of  Native  Village  on  a 15-inch-wide  Ridge. 


CHAPTER  X 


UPS  AND  DOWNS 

The  day  after  I had  settled  the  business  with  Kafulu, 
I sent  Sam  on  to  the  Kebea  to  collect  Lepidoptera,  so 
that  we  might  be  working  two  different  localities  and 
elevations  at  the  same  time.  On  April  26  Harry  left 
Ekeikei  to  fetch  Sam  back  with  the  collections  he  had 
made,  for  we  had  decided  to  go  back  to  Hall  Sound 
and  send  home  our  specimens,  which  the  humid 
atmosphere  was  threatening  to  spoil.  In  due  time 
they  returned,  and  after  I had  examined  the  results 
of  Sam’s  labours,  I arranged  with  him  to  return  to 
Foula,  where  he  had  been  collecting,  while  my  son 
and  myself  went  down  to  the  coast. 

The  journey  down  was  not  very  eventful,  but  one 
night  we  spent  at  Bioto  Creek  will  always  remain 
memorable  to  us.  At  Bioto  we  put  all  our  cases  on 
board  a canoe,  and  set  out  with  two  natives  to  navi- 
gate the  overladen  craft  to  Pokama.  As  we  did  not 
leave  until  late  we  were  forced  to  spend  the  whole  night 
in  the  creek.  In  our  crazy  vessel,  weighed  down 
almost  to  the  water’s  edge,  for  she  had  only  three 
inches  of  free  board,  we  lay  close  inshore,  under  dense 
mangrove  trees.  Sleep  was  impossible,  for  we  were 
assailed  by  mosquitoes  and  other  discomforts ; added 
to  this  we  had  to  endure  the  stench  of  mud,  the  hoarse 
cry  of  the  mound-builder,  the  clacking  of  myriads  of 

203 


UPS  AND  DOWNS 


bivalves  as  the  tide  receded,  the  incessant  rain,  the 
inky  blackness  of  the  night,  and  the  unmistakable 
presence  of  innumerable  crocodiles.  Fortunately  we 
did  not  know  then  that  only  a short  time  before,  near 
this  place,  two  natives  had  had  a desperate  fight  with 
a crocodile,  which  lifted  one  of  them  right  out  of  their 
canoe ; the  other  fought  the  crocodile  gallantly,  and 
managed  to  get  his  companion  back  into  the  boat, 
when  the  saurian,  nothing  daunted,  returned  to  the 
attack,  and  seized  the  poor  fellow  again,  dismembering 
him. 

Although  we  had  not  the  knowledge  of  this 
accident  to  add  to  our  troubles,  that  night  in  Bioto 
Creek,  which  we  spent  cramped  up  in  the  most  un- 
comfortable position,  was  probably  the  most  unenviable 
I have  ever  passed.  Darkness  fell  at  6.30;  at 
3.30  a.m.  we  were  very  glad  to  welcome  the  moon- 
rise,  and  saw  the  light  gradually  silhouette  the  dense 
matted  branches  of  the  mangrove.  About  4 a.m.  we 
left  our  anchorage,  and  the  dawn  saw  us  well  on  our 
voyage  to  Pokama.  It  was  wonderful  on  our  arrival 
there  how  soon,  under  the  influence  of  a good  bath, 
clean  clothes,  a white  table-cloth,  and  a decent  meal, 
we  forgot  the  horrors  of  the  night  that  had  just  passed. 

From  Pokama  we  went  on  to  Hall  Sound,  where 
we  were  fortunate  enough  to  find  the  ketch  St.  Andrew 
about  to  sail,  and  on  board  that  boat  we  secured  a 
passage.  Setting  out  on  the  4th  May,  we  were  often 
badly  becalmed,  and  on  the  third  day  we  lay  ten  miles 
off  the  coast  for  the  whole  twenty-four  hours.  On  the 
9th  we  sighted  an  islet  thirty  miles  from  Thursday 
Island.  This  we  passed  safely,  but  at  1.30  a strong 

204 


POLLING  LAKATOIS  (RAFTS  OF  CANOES)  OUT  FROM  THE  SHORE. 


UPS  AND  DOWNS 

tide  from  the  leeward  set  us  to  windward  of  the  next 
island,  where  there  is  a bad  reef,  and  at  4 p.m.,  when 
we  were  running  before  the  wind  at  the  rate  of  six 
knots  an  hour,  we  ran  right  on  to  it.  As  morning 
broke  we  found  we  were  on  a shelving  reef,  and  in  a 
very  undesirable  predicament  indeed.  We  threw  out 
stone  ballast,  and  after  bumping  about  for  four  hours, 
and  making  many  unsuccessful  attempts  to  get  the 
boat  off,  losing  an  anchor  and  chain  in  the  process, 
we  managed  to  get  clear  with  the  flood  tide.  Next 
night  we  got  into  Thursday  Island,  and,  on  examining 
the  ship,  we  found  that  some  sheets  of  copper  had 
been  torn  off  her. 

At  Thursday  Island  we  were  both  prostrated  by  a 
sharp  attack  of  fever.  This  was  the  first  time  it  had 
seized  me  since  I came  to  New  Guinea,  and  it  is  not 
unusual  when  a man  has  been  living  in  the  wilds  for 
some  time,  and  has  escaped  malaria,  that  he  falls  a 
victim  to  it  almost  as  soon  as  he  returns  to  compara- 
tive civilisation  and  better  food.  In  spite  of  this 
drawback,  we  were  successful  in  getting  our  collec- 
tions despatched,  and  at  8 p.m.,  on  the  23rd  of  May, 
on  a dark,  dirty,  and  very  gusty  night,  with  a nasty 
sea  running,  we  left  Thursday  Island,  and  steered  our 
course  for  Hall  Sound.  In  the  vicinity  of  Bramble 
Cay — a dangerous  sandbank,  about  160  miles  from 
Yule  Island — we  had  our  sails  blown  away,  and  were 
left  in  an  almost  helpless  condition,  only  two  small 
sails  remaining.  For  the  three  following  days  we  beat 
about  in  a heavy  sea,  not  knowing  exactly  where  we 
were,  for  we  had  not  been  able  to  take  an  observation 
since  we  left. 


207 


UPS  AND  DOWNS 


On  the  evening  of  Friday  the  29th  May  we  managed 
to  get  under  the  shelter  of  Yule  Island,  inside  the  reef, 
and  into  smoother  water.  This  was  fortunate,  for  that 
night  it  blew  a hurricane,  and  there  was  a heavy  sea, 
even  where  we  were  lying.  When  daylight  broke  we 
went  on,  and  anchored  off  the  mission  station  at  Yule 
Island,  whence  we  sent  word  to  Port  Moresby  by 
whaleboat  that,  owing  to  our  disabled  condition,  it 
would  be  impossible  for  us  to  go  there  to  clear,  for 
the  Customs  regulations  are  that  all  vessels  crossing 
to  New  Guinea  must  clear  at  Port  Moresby,  Samurai, 
or  Daru.  Of  course,  we  could  not  beat  up  to  Port 
Moresby  against  the  S.E.  monsoon  without  sails, 
so  we  lay  there  five  days,  until  the  whaleboat  re- 
turned with  our  clearance.  Our  stay  was  any- 
thing but  pleasant,  for  we  had  to  remain  on  board 
the  small  ketch  under  a blazing  sun,  as  we  were 
unable  to  land  until  we  got  our  clearance  from  the 
Customs. 

There  was,  however,  one  remarkable  diversion 
during  this  weary  time  of  waiting ; for  on  our  arrival 
we  found,  to  our  surprise,  a large  iron  sailing-ship  at 
anchor  in  the  sound — certainly  the  largest  vessel  that 
ever  entered  it.  She  proved  to  be  the  W.  C.  Watjen, 
a German  barque  that  had  gone  through  a terrible 
experience  in  the  very  centre  of  the  typhoon,  the  tail 
of  which  had  given  us  so  much  trouble.  I made 
friends  with  the  captain — a hero  in  his  way — who, 
without  being  aware  of  what  an  extraordinary  feat  of 
seamanship  he  had  performed,  told  me  in  the  quietest 
possible  manner  one  of  the  most  wonderful  tales  of 
the  sea  it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to  hear.  It  was 

208 


I.— LOW  TIDE  AT  HANUABADA,  SHOWING  THE  PILE-BUILT  HOUSES. 


2. — SIMILAR  HOUSES  FROM  ANOTHER  POINT  OF  VIEW. 


UPS  AND  DOWNS 


indeed,  in  many  particulars,  almost  an  exact  parallel 
to  Mr.  Conrad’s  remarkable  story,  “ Typhoon.” 

The  vessel  was  bound  from  New  York  for  Yoko- 
hama with  kerosene.  She  had  been  out  from  New 
York  for  196  days  without  sighting  a single  ship,  and 
when  off  the  coast  of  New  Caledonia  she  encountered 
the  typhoon.  The  captain’s  first  warning  that  a tem- 
pest was  brewing  was,  of  course,  a sudden  and  unac- 
countable fall  of  the  glass.  Suspecting  what  was  in 
store  for  him,  he  went  on  deck  and  gave  orders  to 
prepare  for  a typhoon.  In  fifteen  minutes  he  returned 
to  his  cabin,  and  found  that  in  that  short  space  of 
time  the  mercury  had  actually  fallen  seven-sixteenths 
more,  and  he  knew  from  that  indication  that  he  would 
shortly  have  to  face  a storm,  which  he  may  well  have 
doubted  the  powers  of  his  vessel  to  weather. 

Before  very  long  the  tempest  struck  her  in  all  its 
fury.  For  five  days  she  encountered  the  direst  perils. 
Her  cargo  had  originally  consisted  of  80,000  cases  of 
kerosene,  and  during  the  worst  of  the  tempest  20,000 
had  been  thrown  overboard.  On  the  very  first  day  the 
rudder  was  carried  away,  but  by  extraordinary  efforts 
the  crew  contrived  to  rig  a staging  at  the  stern  for 
steering,  and  they  managed  to  fit  up  a primitive  rudder. 
The  captain  was  injured  when  the  rudder  was  carried 
away,  for  the  long  tiller  (the  W.  C.  Watjen  was  so 
old-fashioned  that  they  did  not  use  a wheel)  swept 
round  and  hit  the  master  heavily  on  the  groin.  A 
huge  hole,  six  feet  in  diameter,  had  been  knocked  in 
the  stern  when  the  rudder  was  carried  away,  and  this 
flooded  the  cabin  and  the  middle  part  of  the  ship. 
They  managed  to  stop  the  hole  and  bale  out  the  cabin, 


21 1 


U PS  AND  DOWNS 


but  the  tremendous  seas  denied  the  crew  all  access  to 
the  forward  part  of  the  vessel,  where  the  store  of  fresh 
water  was  kept,  and  for  five  days  they  had  nothing  to 
drink  but  the  dish-water  which  had  been  left  in  the 
cook’s  galley.  Strangely  enough,  there  was  only  one 
very  serious  casualty,  the  second  mate  being  disabled 
by  an  accident  to  his  knee.  The  captain  told  me  that 
during  the  worst  of  the  storm  they  were  continually 
under  water ; the  seas  seemed  to  strike  them  simul- 
taneously at  bow,  stern,  port,  and  starboard,  and  at 
times  seemed  to  descend  even  from  the  heavens.  How 
terrible  the  force  of  the  tempest  must  have  been  was 
proved  by  the  fact  that  the  great  steel  masts  of  the 
vessel,  six  feet  in  circumference,  had  all  gone  over 
the  side. 

Although  thus  disabled  herself,  however,  the  W.  C. 
Watjen  was  enabled  to  play  good  Samaritan  to  a 
smaller  German  vessel  in  a like  plight,  and  took  up 
her  crew  and  brought  them  safely  to  Hall  Sound. 
All  the  bulwarks  were  carried  away,  iron  plates  one- 
eighth  of  an  inch  thick  were  peeled  from  the  sides  of 
the  ship,  and  crumpled  up  like  paper  by  the  force  of 
the  wind  and  sea.  After  the  fifth  day  the  captain  was 
able  to  take  an  observation,  and,  by  the  help  of  an 
old  chart,  he  concluded  that  New  Guinea  must  be  his 
nearest  land.  Crippled  as  he  was,  he  endeavoured  to 
make  for  Yule  Island,  where  his  chart,  which  was  in- 
complete, told  him  there  was  a mission  station,  and, 
curiously  enough,  he  was  quite  close  to  his  desired 
haven  when  he  was  discovered  and  towed  in  by  the 
Moresby  after  seventy-six  days’  stress.  Had  the  vessel 
drifted  farther  west,  she  must  have  gone  on  the  reefs, 

212 


UPS  AND  DOWNS 


and  the  crew  would  certainly  have  fallen  victims  to  the 
cannibal  natives.  It  is  really  extraordinary  how  she 
managed  to  escape  all  the  dangers  of  the  coral  islands 
that  dot  the  seas  for  at  least  200  miles  west  of  Hall 
Sound. 

The  same  typhoon  wrecked  Townsville,  unroofed 
an  hotel,  reduced  brick  buildings  to  debris  and  killed 
seven  men  ; at  the  same  time  the  sea  receded  and  left 
the  shipping  dry. 

When  we  had  been  lying  in  Hall  Sound  some 
three  or  four  days,  the  Merrie  England  came  up 
with  the  Administrator,  Mr.  Ruthven  Le  Hunte,  who 
asked  us  to  breakfast,  and  told  us  that  for  some 
days  he  had  been  very  anxious  about  the  St.  Andreiv 
and  had  been  keeping  a sharp  look-out  for  us  on 
his  passage  from  the  west. 

When  we  had  finally  got  our  clearance  we  set 
about  going  to  camp  again  at  Ekeikei,  but  it  took 
us  until  the  17th  June  to  get  together  our  carriers. 
The  old  difficulties  in  regard  to  them  again  beset 
us,  but  after  great  trouble  and  much  searching 
and  persuasion  we  obtained  a somewhat  inadequate 
force  with  which  we  pushed  on  and  got  back  to 
Ekeikei  on  the  20th  June.  There  five  of  our  boys 
deserted. 

No  sooner  were  we  back  in  camp  than  a new 
trouble  assailed  us  in  the  shape  of  an  attack  of 
sickness  among  our  natives.  We  had  hardly  been  a 
week  at  Ekeikei  and  were  just  settling  down  to 
our  work,  when  one  or  two  boys  turned  ill  and 
complained  of  headache  and  were  very  feverish,  and 
very  soon  the  tell-tale  rash  proclaimed  they  had 

213 


UPS  AND  DOWNS 


German  measles.  They  were  very  miserable,  poor 
fellows,  and  lay,  some  under  the  house,  and  some  in 
the  sun,  all  showing  signs  of  considerable  distress. 
Nursing,  according  to  our  ideas,  was  of  course  im- 
possible, for  you  cannot  induce  a savage  to  keep 
himself  covered  up.  A curious  symptom  in  one  case 
was  that  the  boy’s  speech  was  affected.  We  did  our 
best  for  them  and  gave  them  cooling  medicine,  and 
fortunately  they  all  recovered.  As  soon  as  they  were 
convalescent  they  wanted  to  go  back  to  their  villages, 
and  it  was  very  difficult  to  dissuade  them.  That  would 
of  course  have  been  a very  disastrous  proceeding,  as 
they  would  certainly  have  returned  only  to  spread  the 
infection,  which  is  most  easily  communicated  during 
convalescence. 

Knowing  that  they  had  caught  the  disease  on  the 
coast,  they  were,  naturally,  very  reluctant  ever  to 
undertake  any  other  journeys  for  me  to  the  sea  again, 
and  the  situation  was  altogether  very  trying,  for  they 
said  that  the  white  man  brought  the  sickness.  While 
it  lasted  it  was  a very  hard  matter  to  hold  the  camp 
together.  Finally,  however,  when  they  saw  that  the 
white  man  was  doing  everything  in  his  power  to  help 
them,  they  were  reassured.  On  their  own  account 
they  tried  to  treat  themselves,  by  the  peculiar  native 
method  of  bleeding,  which  will  be  found  more  par- 
ticularly described  in  the  chapter  dealing  specially 
with  Papuan  manners  and  customs. 

On  June  22  we  lost  Sam  for  awhile,  for  we  had 
to  let  him  go  down  to  Port  Moresby  to  be  treated  for 
some  trouble  in  his  leg,  but  he  promised  to  return  in 
six  weeks. 


214 


All  the  inhabitants  of  the  village  had  fled  at  our  approach  except  one  old  man. 


UPS  AND  DOWNS 


At  the  beginning  of  July  Harry  set  out  on  a rather 
adventurous  journey,  for  I consented  to  allow  him 
to  go  alone  to  the  Kebea.  It  is  scarcely  likely  that 
in  the  history  of  British  New  Guinea  an  English 
boy  of  sixteen  has  ever  been  alone  with  cannibals. 
His  difficulties  were  not  long  in  beginning,  and  I quote 
the  following  extracts  from  his  diary : — 

“Left  Ekeikei  5.30  a.m.  After  half-an-hour  one 
man  played  out,  so  I had  to  take  about  12  lbs.  out 
of  his  bag  and  carry  it  myself ; two  hours  from  Madui 
he  played  right  out;  a woman  carried  his  load.  We 
travelled  very  slowly  and  stopped  often.  Hid  not  get 
to  Madui  until  4 p.m.  ; found  the  little  bottle  of 
brandy  father  gave  me  in  case  of  need,  broken  and 
contents  gone. 

“ July  2nd,  ’03. — After  changing  carriers  went  on 
to  Hinawa,  and  after  resting  a little,  on  to  the  Kebea, 
where  we  arrived  at  5 p.m. 

“ July  Jth. — I left  for  Yo-ya-ka,  on  the  other  side 
of  the  Kebea,  as  I wanted  to  get  carriers  to  go  to 
Ekeikei  to  bring  up  father  and  Sam.  They  were  very 
frightened  when  I went  into  the  village  and  would  not 
come  near  me.  The  road  was  very  steep  and  I got 
back  very  tired.  It  was  a long  walk.  Could  not  get 
any  carriers. 

“ July  8th. — There  is  a feast  at  Yo-ya-ka  and  I 
shall  be  very  glad  when  it  is  over,  as  then  I hope  to 
get  carriers.  There  is  not  much  food  here,  only 
sweet  potatoes.  A difficult  country  to  shoot  or 
collect  in. 

“ July  gth. — Hardly  any  food  left.  The  natives  of 

217 


UPS  AND  DOWNS 

the  village  of  Inomaka  object  to  my  collector  shooting 
there,  and  refuse  to  permit  him  to  collect  butterflies, 
so  the  boy  returned  empty-handed.  I am  sending 
a few  carriers  to  father,  only  three.  I have  been 
busy  enclosing  the  end  of  the  hut  that  Sam  had 
previously  hastily  built  up,  as  it  was  left  open.  One 
of  my  boys,  Matu,  left  me  yesterday  and  has  not 
returned. 

“ July  13th. — Shall  be  glad  of  the  shooters’  return, 
for  I have  had  no  meat  for  nine  days,  only  sweet  pota- 
toes. Last  night  I tried  the  lamp  for  moths  and  did 
not  do  badly. 

“ July  i/[th. — Shooters  return  with  nothing.  Ow- 
bow  arrived  in  the  afternoon,  but  no  carriers.  Got 
190  moths  to-night  and  busy  pinning  them  to-day. 

“July  15  th. — Father  arrived  at  4.30  p.m.” 


Amplified  Note  on  the  Journey  to  Yo-ya-ka 

For  my  journey  to  Yo-ya-ka  I started  from  a point 
opposite  the  Kebea  and  went  down  past  one  of  the 
Yuni-Yuni  villages,  situated  on  a spur  of  the  moun- 
tains. We  then  made  a long  ascent  of  some  2000 
feet  leading  up  to  the  same  ridge  as  Mount  Kebea 
where  the  village  of  Yo-ya-ka  is  situated.  It  was  a 
most  remarkable  place,  and  it  is  difficult  to  convey 
exactly  to  those  who  have  never  seen  it,  the  idea  of 
what  these  Papuan  ridges  with  their  strangely  perched 
villages  are.  They  come  up  almost  to  a razor  edge, 
relatively  speaking,  and  certainly  the  free  foot-way  on 
that  Yo-ya-ka  ridge  was  no  wider  than  fifteen  inches. 
This  narrow  strip  of  foothold  followed  the  main  street 

218 


UPS  AND  DOWNS 


of  the  village,  and  on  each  side  of  it  the  houses  were 
on  supporting  poles.  The  extreme  sharpness  of  the 
declivity  on  each  side,  of  course,  made  the  houses 
much  higher  on  the  side  farthest  from  the  road  than 
on  that  facing  it.  As  structures  they  were  not  much 
to  boast  of;  there  were  about  twenty  of  them  and 
all  were  tumble-down.  The  Yo-ya-ka  people  were 
preparing  for  a feast,  and  when  I arrived  the  men 
were  strutting  about  in  their  feathers  and  paint. 
Various  tribesmen  from  a distance  had  assembled ; 
three  were  from  Yuni-Yuni  and  some  from  Bawboi. 
Among  the  visitors  we  noticed  some  familiar  faces. 
A native  helper  named  Gavashana  recognised  me  at 
once.  He  asked  me  to  come  in,  so  I sat  down  and 
gave  him  some  tobacco.  The  Bawboi  people,  how- 
ever, were  greatly  alarmed  at  my  appearance.  They 
began  to  cry  and  retreated,  saying  it  was  “ Fi-fi,”  that 
is,  magic.  Their  acquaintances,  however,  reassured 
them  and  made  them  come  up  to  me  and  shake 
hands.  I then  tried  to  induce  a few  men  to  enter 
our  service  as  carriers,  but  failed,  so  I determined  to 
return  and  started  at  once.  When  I had  gone  a little 
way  up  the  ridge,  Ow-bow,  for  some  reason  best 
known  to  himself,  persuaded  me  to  let  off  my  gun, 
whereat  the  whole  of  the  merry-makers  turned  out 
and  began  to  jabber  at  the  rate  of  nineteen  to  the 
dozen. 

I returned  to  the  camp  at  Mount  Kebea,  and  for 
the  next  week  or  so  experienced  rainy  weather  and 
great  discomfort.  All  my  provisions  were  gone,  and 
I had  to  live  on  sweet  potatoes  and  a few  birds  we 
could  shoot.  I tried  eating  the  Drepcmornis  Albertisii, 

219 


UPS  AND  DOWNS 


but  it  was  the  most  shocking  flesh  I have 
We  roasted  the  bird  on  a split  stick  and 
bitter  as  gall ; as  was  to  be  expected,  I 
further  than  the  first  mouthful,  although 
hungry. 


ever  eaten, 
found  it  as 
did  not  go 
I was  very 


220 


CHAPTER  XI 

A BOY  OF  SIXTEEN  ALONE  WITH 
CANNIBALS 

Further  into  the  Mountains — A Murder — The  Settlement  of  the 
Blood  Price — A Pig  for  a Life — Harry’s  Further  Adventures 
alone  among  Cannibals — Various  other  Murders — The  Village 
of  Amana — A Tree  House — The  Lunatic  at  Amana — Foula — 
A Pretty  Village. 


L 


CHAPTER  XI 


ALONE  WITH  CANNIBALS 

The  next  day  or  two  are  thus  outlined  in  Harry’s 
diary : — 

“ July  \jth,  1903. — Some  natives  arrived  from 
Deva-Deva  and  two  from  a village  close  by  called 
Coo-lu-coo-lu.  These  natives  are  going  for  us  to 
Ekeikei  to  fetch  up  our  things,  but  they  ask  for  a 
gun  as  they  are  afraid  of  the  Madui  people — likely  ! 

“ July  2 1 st. — Father  down  with  fever. 

“ July  23 rd. — Yesterday’s  report  that  a man  had 
been  killed  proved  correct.  Getting  some  fine  moths, 
about  300  last  night — good  nights  are  rare.  Sam  re- 
turned to-day  with  the  three  boys  he  took  with  him ; 
they  are  to  have  a few  days’  holiday  and  then  they 
will  return  to  us.  Warm,  misty,  dark  nights  such  as 
we  are  having  are  best  for  moths. 

“ July  2 8th. — To-night  the  best  night  we  have  had 
as  yet,  750  specimens — 94  of  which  were  Sphingadae. 
On  nights  like  this  we  do  not  go  to  bed  at  all.  Getting 
short  of  boxes.  We  have  to  send  to  Ekeikei  for 
material.” 

Note  on  the  Murder  of  Ow-bow’s  Brother 

One  evening  we  heard  a woman  wailing  down  in 
the  village  and  knew  that  something  was  wrong. 

223 


ALONE  WITH  CANNIBALS 


Shortly  afterwards  the  natives  began  calling,  and  we 
learned  that  some  one  had  been  killed.  A messenger 
came  up  to  tell  us  it  was  Ow-bow’s  brother  who  had 
been  murdered.  The  latter  man  was  much  discon- 
certed, and  tried  to  persuade  himself  that  it  could  not 
be  so.  Later  on,  however,  the  messenger  came  up 
with  indisputable  news,  and  we  heard  that  the  murder 
had  been  occasioned  by  a proceeding  that  was  to  some 
extent  romantic. 

It  seemed  that  Ow-bow’s  brother  had  some  time 
before  stolen  the  murderer’s  wife,  and  taken  her  away 
to  his  own  village  and  kept  her  there.  After  a time 
it  occurred  to  him  that  having  got  her  he  might  as 
well  pay  for  her,  after  the  native  manner,  and 
accordingly  he  visited  the  husband  in  order  to  settle 
his  account.  The  husband,  however,  was  not  disposed 
to  receive  compensation  of  this  sort,  and  accordingly 
he  killed  and  ate  the  other.  There  is  no  doubt  that  he 
had  heard  of  the  man’s  intention  to  come  and  see  him, 
and  that  he  laid  wait  for  him.  The  victim  was  either 
speared  or  clubbed. 

The  wailing  for  the  dead  man  lasted  about  four  or 
five  hours,  which  is  about  the  limit  of  Papuan  mourn- 
ing. After  that  time  a murder  becomes  merely  an 
interesting  subject  of  conversation,  and  the  people 
gathered  around  the  camp  fires,  eagerly  conversing  in 
low  tones  until  far  into  the  night.  At  first  their  dis- 
position was  to  demand  a life  for  a life,  that  they 
might  slay  and  eat,  although,  curiously  enough,  they 
would  not  have  committed  cannibalism  in  the  presence 
of  a white  man  or  a native  woman  ! 

Next  day  our  people  and  the  villagers  held  a con- 

224 


HARRY  PRATT, 


ALONE  WITH  CANNIBALS 

ference  ; they  did  not  meet,  however,  but  simply 
contented  themselves  with  calling  from  ridge  to  ridge. 
Gradually  the  idea  of  the  vendetta  wore  out  of  their 
minds,  and  at  last  it  was  proposed  that  the  murderer, 
instead  of  paying  a life  for  a life,  should  simply  pay  a 
pig  for  the  murdered  man. 

Accordingly  two  messengers  brought  in  the  com- 
pensation, slung  on  a pole.  The  pig  was  solemnly 
slain  and  eaten,  and  the  incident  was  closed. 

The  next  extract  from  my  son’s  diary  is  more 
important,  for  if  his  journey  close  to  the  Kebea  was 
risky,  it  was  not  nearly  so  sensational  as  one  he  had 
afterwards  to  make  back  to  Ekeikei  in  order  to  relieve 
our  higher  camp  from  the  pinch  of  hunger.  His  own 
account,  however,  scarcely  gives  a hint  of  the  peril  he 
was  in. 

“ July  2,0th. — All  the  boys  engaged  to  go  to  Ekeikei 
for  the  sago  have  run  away,  as  they  say  that  the 
natives  at  the  village  of  Madui  are  hostile.  Sam  has 
gone  out  carrier  hunting  and  obtained  only  two. 

“ July  3is£. — I left  this  morning  (as  we  are  out 
of  trade  and  provisions)  at  6 o’clock  for  Ekeikei, 
arriving  there  at  4.30,  but  it  was  2 a.m.  before  I 
could  rest; 

“Sat.,  Aug.  1 st. — Left  Ekeikei  early  about  7 a.m., 
and  reached  Madui  about  4 o’clock.  Had  a bad  night ; 
it  was  very  long,  and  I had  no  sleep  at  all.  The  mist 
very  thick  over  the  Madui  hills.  A good  night  for 
moths  had  it  not  been  so  light.” 

“ Aug.  2nd. — Reached  the  Kebea  at  3 p.m. 

“Aug.  3rd. — Very  busy  making  sago  boxes. 

227 


ALONE  WITH  CANNIBALS 


“ Aug.  ^th. — They  killed  another  man  at  Madui  the 
night  I was  there — they  are  killing  a lot  of  men, 
women,  and  children.” 

The  incident  here  outlined  by  my  son  may  well  bear 
a little  further  amplification.  Trade  and  provisions 
had  all  but  failed  us,  and  I could  not  possibly  go  back 
myself  to  our  base  at  Ekeikei  without  serious  loss  of 
time.  It  would  have  been  out  of  the  question,  too,  to 
take  back  the  whole  party.  There  were  sufficient 
indications  of  the  unrest  among  the  natives  at  the  time, 
and  consequently  it  was  nothing  but  the  direst  neces- 
sity that  induced  me  to  accept  Harry’s  offer  to  go  down 
himself  with  a few  carriers  to  bring  up  what  we  required. 
I had  great  confidence  in  the  lad’s  common-sense,  he 
knew  the  language,  and  he  seemed  to  have  the  knack 
of  dealing  with  the  natives.  After  serious  considera- 
tion of  the  risk,  therefore,  I agreed  to  let  him  go.  At 
first  it  was  not  easy  to  get  our  carriers  to  undertake 
the  journey,  so  evil  was  the  reputation  of  the  village 
of  Madui  through  which  the  party  must  pass,  but  after 
persuasion  we  got  the  consent  of  a sufficient  number, 
and  not  without  serious  misgivings,  which  I was  care- 
ful to  conceal,  did  I watch  the  little  party  set  out.  The 
matter,  however,  was  urgent.  Starvation,  rebellion, 
and  desertion  of  my  followers  threatened  us  had  we 
been  left  absolutely  destitute.  On  the  way  down  Harry 
and  his  party  got  through  Madui  safely.  They  reached 
Ekeikei,  procured  what  they  wanted  from  our  stores, 
and  began  the  toilsome  ascent  once  more.  At  Madui 
trouble  awaited  them.  There  had  been  a native  fracas, 
a man  had  just  been  murdered,  and  the  blood-lust 

228 


ALONE  WITH  CANNIBALS 


was  strong  in  the  people,  who,  on  Harry’s  arrival, 
demanded  that  he  should  give  up  one  of  his  boys  to 
be  killed  and  eaten.  My  son,  though  well  armed,  had 
the  wisdom  not  to  make  any  parade  of  force,  and 
resorted  to  persuasion.  After  much  argument,  he 
persuaded  the  Madui  people  to  forego  their  demand, 
but  it  is  not  surprising  that  during  the  night,  in  the 
course  of  which  another  murder  was  committed,  he 
kept  the  strictest  watch,  allowing  himself  not  a wink 
of  sleep.  One  can  well  believe  he  found  the  vigil 
“long.”  In  the  morning  they  got  clear  away  with 
their  loads,  and  the  same  evening  I was,  needless  to 
say,  relieved  and  delighted  to  welcome  them  back  to 
my  camp  on  the  Kebea.  No  youth  of  my  son’s  age 
has  ever,  I am  sure,  undertaken  so  hazardous  a journey 
among  the  New  Guinea  cannibals. 

“ Preparations  to  leave  the  Kebea  for  Foula. 

“Aug.  Sth. — Left  the  Kebea  at  9 a.m.  Left  eight 
loads  behind  me.  Reached  Coo-lu-coo-lu  at  1 1 a.m. 
We  ascended  a hill  4000  feet  high,  then  descended 
2000  feet,  very  steep,  then  up  again  to  Coo-lu- 
coo-lu.  Many  of  the  inhabitants  are  absent  making 
sago. 

“Aug.  nth. — Kept  two  days  for  our  relays.  Only 
by  studying  the  daily  routine  of  this  journal  can  any 
one  realise  the  difficulty  of  getting  about  in  New 
Guinea. 

“ Reached  Ba-booni  after  three  hours’  walk,  and 
then  descended  1000  feet  to  the  river  Aculama. 

“Aug.  12 th. — We  arrived  at  Amana  at  10  a.m. 
There  is  a tree-house  here,  40  feet  above  the  ground — 

229 


ALONE  WITH  CANNIBALS 


used  as  a look-out  station.  A small  village,  and  the 
people  bad.  About  two  months  ago  the  chief  mur- 
dered a man  and  a boy  close  to  our  yesterday’s  camp. 
We  heard  of  five  other  recent  murders.  There  is  a 
lunatic  here,  the  first  and  only  lunatic  we  saw  in  New 
Guinea.  We  sent  an  armed  native  to  call  Foula  to 
our  aid  for  carrying.” 


Notes  on  Amana  and  the  Tree-House 

Amana  was  a most  peculiar  village,  and  like  Yo-ya-ka 
was  built  on  an  extremely  narrow  ridge,  so  narrow 
indeed  that  we  could  not  pitch  our  fly-tent  there,  but 
slept  in  a house  the  front  part  of  which  overhung  a 
precipice.  The  house  commanded  a most  lovely  view 
far  away  into  the  valley,  the  slopes  of  which  were 
covered  with  dense  wood.  We  could  see  the  river 
flashing  at  intervals  through  the  greenery  ; it  must  at 
least  have  been  1 500  feet  below  us,  but  the  roar  of  the 
torrent  came  up  to  us  with  great  distinctness.  As  we 
approached  Amana  our  carriers  suddenly  put  down  all 
their  loads  and  would  not  enter.  On  being  asked  why, 
they  said  that  some  time  before  the  chief  of  Amana 
had  killed  one  of  their  people. 

We  went  in  and  made  the  acquaintance  of  this 
worthy.  He  was  rather  a personable  character,  quite 
bald,  and  with  a very  noble  forehead,  but,  like  most  of 
the  more  degraded  aborigines,  he  could  not  look  the 
white  man  in  the  face.  On  hearing  of  our  approach 
he  became  frightened  and  retreated  to  a tree-house, 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  curiosities  which  we  saw 

230 


ALONE  WITH  CANNIBALS 

in  New  Guinea.  In  the  village  was  a large  tree,  the 
trunk  of  which  reached  up  about  20  feet  bare  of 
branches,  and  then  the  main  stem  divided  into  a 
fork.  Among  the  branches  were  two  platforms.  To 
the  first  there  was  a very  rude  ascent,  a rough  ladder 
consisting  of  two  uprights  with  rungs  placed  at  an 
angle  of  at  least  65  degrees.  Above  that  was  the 
second  platform,  forming  the  bottom  of  the  house, 
which  was  reached  by  steps,  very  narrow,  but  not 
so  far  apart  as  the  steps  of  the  lower  ladder.  The 
tree-house  is  not  uncommon  in  New  Guinea,  but  it  is 
very  exceptional  to  find  two  platforms.  The  uprights 
and  ladders  were  made  of  bamboo,  and  the  rungs  were 
made  of  boughs  cut  anyhow  with  walo,  a species  of 
cane  which  grows  to  a length  of  20  feet,  and  is  used 
for  lashings.  Each  cane  is  the  size  of  a thick  pencil, 
and  has  a spiky  outer  cover.  This  is  peeled  off  when 
the  cane  is  ripe,  and  it  is  then  split,  an  operation 
requiring  great  dexterity,  and  one  which  can  only 
be  performed  by  the  Papuans  themselves,  for  none 
but  a native  could  split  a 20-foot  cane  cleanly  down 
its  entire  length. 

The  higher  platform  which  supported  the  house 
measured  about  1 2 feet  by  6 feet ; it  was  made  of 
bamboo  cross-pieces,  interlaced  with  bark.  The  roof 
was  covered  with  grass,  and  the  only  aperture  was  one 
small  door,  over  which  the  thatch  came  closely  down. 
There  was  just  room  for  a person  to  crawl  in. 

We  had  considerable  difficulty  in  inducing  the 
chief  to  leave  his  retreat,  but  at  length  he  summoned 
up  sufficient  courage  to  come  out  and  speak  to  us. 

At  Amana  we  noticed  no  conical  houses,  the  dwell- 

233 


ALONE  WITH  CANNIBALS 


ings  being  for  the  most  part  of  the  kind  known  as  the 
“ lean-to.” 

We  noticed  various  other  curiosities  at  Amana. 
One  was  a rather  mysterious  grave,  just  outside  the 
village  at  the  point  where  the  carriers  put  down  their 
loads.  This  place,  which  for  some  reason  or  other  was 
regarded  as  sacred,  was  surrounded  by  a low  stockade, 
but  no  attempt  was  made  to  keep  the  enclosure — which 
was  quite  overgrown — in  order,  and  we  learned  nothing 
regarding  its  origin,  for  the  Papuans  are  a people  with- 
out a history. 

The  people  wore  an  ornament,  which  we  also 
noticed  among  the  Tugeri  in  Dutch  New  Guinea. 
This  was  the  oval,  highly-polished  grey  seed  of  a 
species  of  grass  which  grows  at  Amana.  The  villagers 
wore  the  seeds  on  strings  or  singly  in  their  hair.  The 
Tugeri  string  the  seed  into  necklaces  and  wristlets. 
As  the  grass  grows  only  at  Amana,  it  is  a certain  proof 
of  communication  between  the  Tugeri  and  the  hill 
tribes. 


The  Lunatic  at  Amana 

In  the  village  of  Amana  we  met  the  only  half- 
witted Papuan  we  saw  in  New  Guinea.  He  had  been 
imbecile  from  his  birth,  and  at  the  time  we  saw  him 
his  age  was  probably  from  28  to  30,  but  it  might  have 
been  less.  He  could  not  speak  and  was  very  deaf. 
He  was  of  a very  pale  coffee  colour,  and  might 
probably  have  stood  about  5 feet  6 inches,  but  he 
was  strangely  bent  and  very  thin.  He  communicated 
with  his  fellows  by  means  of  signs,  and  was  regarded 
in  the  village  as  quite  an  amusing  character.  In  fact, 

234 


ALONE  WITH  CANNIBALS 


to  the  best  of  my  belief,  he  was  maintained  by  the 
villagers  simply  because  of  the  amusement  they  got 
out  of  him.  He  had  a mother  alive  who  was  quite 
sane,  but  he  himself  lived  alone,  and  was  very  nervous 
about  coming  out  to  see  the  white  man.  The  tribes- 
men, however,  were  determined  to  show  him  off,  and 
after  a great  deal  of  persuasion  he  was  brought  up  to  me. 

They  made  signs  to  him  to  dance,  and  this  was 
evidently  a common  pastime,  for,  without  the  least 
reluctance,  he  began  his  performance,  which  was  un- 
skilled enough  and  slightly  repulsive.  His  dancing  con- 
sisted of  wobbling  the  head  and  feet  at  a tremendous 
rate  and  putting  out  his  tongue.  As  soon  as  he  began 
to  show  off,  the  Amana  people  sat  down  in  front  of 
him  and  enjoyed  the  spectacle.  He  took  his  mission 
of  purveyor  of  diversion  with  deadly  seriousness,  and 
all  the  time  he  danced  he  made  a strange  mumbling 
noise.  He  was  popular  with  the  children  also,  and 
they  would  bring  him  out  and  set  him  dancing  when- 
ever they  felt  dull.  For  clothes  he  wore  the  usual 
native  costume  of  the  mountains,  except  the  tight 
belt,  which  was  perhaps  too  much  an  adjunct  of 
dandyism  for  this  unfortunate  to  affect.  Not  only 
would  he  dance  at  the  word  of  command,  but  he  would 
take  off  all  his  clothes  to  order,  and  carrying  his 
meagre  garments  over  his  arm,  he  would  run  from  one 
end  of  the  village  to  the  other  clapping  his  hands  in 
slow  time.  It  was  considered  superexcellent  fun  to 
make  him  dance  with  his  clothes  off,  and  all  the  time 
the  Philistines  made  game  of  the  poor  creature,  who, 
however,  was  no  Samson  ! 

Another  primitive  jest  was  to  give  him  unpalat- 

235 


ALONE  WITH  CANNIBALS 


able  and  impossible  things  to  eat,  but  they  had  the 
decency  never  to  let  him  actually  eat  a gift  of  char- 
coal— a not  uncommon  present — although  they  allowed 
him  to  come  within  an  ace  of  doing  so.  He  was 
tremendously  greedy,  and  when  cooking  or  eating  was 
going  on  he  would  try  to  grab  all  he  could.  As  soon 
as  we  began  to  prepare  a meal  he  lost  all  fear  of  us, 
and  pursued  his  usual  tactics.  He  would  snatch  at  our 
plates  like  a dog,  seize  as  much  as  he  could,  and  long 
before  one  could  say  that  curiously  cumbrous  phrase 
“ Jack  Robinson,”  he  would  have  it  all  stuffed  into 
his  mouth.  If  we  told  him  to  go  away,  he  would 
remove  himself  for  about  five  yards  and  sit  down.  In 
a very  few  minutes  he  had  crawled  up  again  and  would 
make  another  raid  upon  our  dishes. 

We  had  some  most  interesting  conversations  re- 
garding the  lunatic  with  Ow-bow,  who  told  us  what 
was  to  be  known  of  his  family  history.  Ow-bow  said 
descriptively  that  he  was  “ bad  inside,”  and  added 
oracularly,  “ Olana  lakuana,”  which  means,  “ Head  no 
good.”  We  asked  particularly  if  such  a person  would 
have  been  allowed  to  marry,  whereupon  Ow-bow  gave 
an  emphatic  negative,  saying,  “ Wabeeni  daba  kadena 
enai  makana  affi?”  which  is  literally,  “Woman  what 
kind  this  fellow  have  ? ” (“  What  sort  of  woman  would 
have  this  fellow  ? ”)  The  poor  unfortunate  was,  how- 
ever, extremely  harmless.  One  could  do  what  one 
liked  with  him,  for  he  was  never  known  to  lose  his 
temper. 

“Aug.  1 3th. — Several  carriers  came,  and  we  started 
at  10  a.m.  and  arrived  at  Foula  at  3 p.m.  It  is  a 

236 


I. — LOOKING  DOWN  A NATIVE  HANGING  BRIDGE. 
2. — A SIDE  VIEW  OF  THE  SAME  BRIDGE* 


ALONE  WITH  CANNIBALS 

fairly  large  village  for  this  part.  They  speak  quite  a 
different  language  from  that  of  the  Kebea  and  Dinawa. 
We  rigged  up  a temporary  verandah  for  our  work.  To- 
day we  got  a few  good  butterflies,  but  few  moths  at 
night ; too  much  light.  The  height  of  our  camp  here 
is  2600  feet.  We  bought  a pig  to-day,  killed  it,  and 
found  it  quite  a treat ; the  meat  was  very  good,  and  it 
afforded  us  fat  for  cooking.” 


Foul  a Village 

Just  before  the  entrance  to  Foula  village  we  noticed 
the  evidences  of  a great  land-slide,  which  had  left  the 
ridge  of  rock,  along  which  our  path  lay,  as  clean  as  a 
piece  of  china.  The  path  had  thus  been  rendered 
perilous,  but  the  natives  had  had  the  sense  to  put  up 
a light  bamboo  rail  on  each  side,  and  this  was  ex- 
tremely fortunate,  for  there  was  hardly  room  for  the 
foot,  and  a slip  would  have  certainly  meant  disaster, 
for  the  descent  was  sheer  on  each  side  for  several 
hundred  feet. 

Foula  is  one  of  the  sweetest  villages  imaginable. 
There  are  really  two  villages — the  upper  and  the  lower. 
The  upper  one  contains  about  fifteen  to  twenty  houses 
arranged  in  a circle,  and  the  approach  to  it  is  through 
an  avenue  of  beautiful  crotons  planted  by  the  natives. 
To  reach  the  lower  village  one  had  to  descend  for 
about  ten  minutes.  This  other  hamlet,  which  is 
picturesquely  situated  close  to  a fine  waterfall,  is 
divided  into  two  parts,  a narrow  ridge  connecting 
the  two.  The  houses  in  this  village  stand  in  a 

239 


ALONE  WITH  CANNIBALS 

line,  and  are  very  substantially  built.  Past  them 
runs  what  looks  like  a road  of  well-trodden  red 
clay,  which  seemed  as  if  it  had  been  rolled,  and  the 
whole  place  had  the  appearance  of  being  beautifully 
kept. 

The  Foula  people  were  of  a Jewish  type  of  feature. 
Their  language  differs  considerably  from  the  dialects 
we  had  heard. 


240 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  UNEXPLORED : AMONG  PAPUAN 
PEAKS 

Still  Higher  in  the  Owen  Stanley  Range — The  Road  to  Mafulu 
— Beauties  of  the  Forest — The  Hill  Step — Curious  Habit  of 
Walking  acquired  in  Abrupt  Ground — Cold  at  High  Altitudes — 
A New  Camp  built — Alpine  Signs  in  Insects  and  Flowers — 
Routine  Work — Food  runs  low  again — Native  Thieves — Fol- 
lowers discontented — They  fear  the  Hostile  Mafulu  People — 
Daily  Threats  of  Desertion- — Strict  Watch — My  Rule  for  Night 
Visitors — Compulsory  Carrying  of  Torches  and  Disarming — 
Weirdly  Picturesque  Night  Scenes — Further  Privations — Bird 
of  Paradise  Soup — Ugh ! — Decide  to  depart — Natives  burn  down 
Camp  to  ensure  our  going. 


CHAPTER  XII 


THE  UNEXPLORED:  AMONG  PAPUAN  PEAKS 

From  the  Kebea  to  Mafulu  it  was  a five  days’  journey 
along  the  most  rugged,  toilsome,  and  difficult  path. 
At  one  point  one  has  to  traverse  a ridge  which  turns 
in  a half-circle,  and  at  the  very  top  it  is  scarcely  more 
than  6 inches  wide,  sheer  precipice  running  down  on 
each  side.  The  dangers  of  the  road  were,  however, 
somewhat  compensated  for  by  the  magnificent  view 
which  one  could  enjoy  from  that  point,  and  a butterfly- 
collector  had  also  something  to  reward  him.  As  we 
rested  there,  after  having  passed  the  most  dangerous 
part  of  the  ridge,  along  which  we  had  to  crawl  on  our 
hands  and  knees,  I saw  some  of  the  rarer  Pajpilios  in 
fairly  large  numbers.  Unfortunately,  they  were  all 
rather  worn  specimens  and  of  no  value  for  the  collect- 
ing-box, and  I was  sorry  that  I was  not  there  earlier, 
so  as  to  have  captured  these  butterflies  when  they  had 
freshly  emerged  from  the  chrysalis.  They  measure 
about  3 inches  across  from  wing  to  wing,  and  are 
of  a most  brilliant  pea-green,  shot  with  a lovely  mauve 
sheen  on  the  under  wings.  The  descent  was  very, 
very  steep,  especially  the  last  portion  of  the  road, 
where  it  descended  abruptly  to  the  creek.  We  had 
to  hold  on  by  roots  and  vegetation  and  to  look  most 
carefully  after  our  footing,  for  a false  step  might  have 
sent  us  down  a precipice,  falling  sheer  for  800  feet. 

243  M 


AMONG  PAPUAN  PEAKS 


But  for  the  support  of  the  growing  things  we  could 
not  have  made  the  descent  at  all,  and  the  marvel  was 
how  our  carriers  managed  it  with  their  heavy  loads. 
They  seemed,  however,  quite  unconcerned,  and  took 
no  notice  of  the  dangers  besetting  them.  They  would 
never  think  of  lightening  or  setting  down  their  loads, 
but  moved  on  in  a zig-zag,  catching  hold  of  the  creepers 
as  they  went,  without  effort.  The  bed  of  the  creek, 
when  we  reached  it,  we  found  to  be  full  of  boulders. 
While  my  men  took  a bath,  I examined  the  gravel  in 
the  river-bed,  for  it  looked  tempting  for  the  mineral 
prospector.  By  way  of  experiment,  and  to  pass  the 
time,  I washed  out  a panful  or  so  of  gravel,  and  noticed 
a few  colours  in  the  sand  that  indicated  the  presence 
of  gold.  It  is  not  improbable  that  the  prospector  who 
worked  that  creek  would  find  considerable  trace  of 
mineral  wealth.  Here  I saw  the  indigenous  bread- 
fruit, about  the  size  of  a cricket  ball,  and  full  of  kernels 
smaller  than  a chestnut,  only  with  a thinner  rind  and 
of  a chocolate  rather  than  a red-brown  colour.  The 
natives  boil  it,  and  we  found  it  floury  and  very  palat- 
able, though  slightly  bitter.  The  Papuans  are  very 
fond  of  this  fruit  when  they  can  get  it. 

We  ascended,  by  way  of  one  of  the  two  villages 
known  as  Foula,  for  four  hours,  the  climb  being  all 
the  way  through  dense  forest  soaking  with  the 
humidity  of  the  atmosphere.  Even  the  hot  sun  seemed 
scarcely  to  affect  the  prevailing  damp.  The  rocks 
which  beset  our  path  were  covered  with  lovely-shaded 
begonias,  ferns,  and  trailing  creepers,  intermingled  in 
richest  profusion  of  golden  tints.  In  the  early  morning 
the  forest  is  alive  with  bird-life.  The  trees  are  of 

244 


Note  the  line  of  mist  across  the  picture  just  below  the  summits. 


AMONG  PAPUAN  PEAKS 

strange  magnificence,  particularly  the  mountain  Pan- 
danus,  with  its  aerial  roots,  which  cover  an  immense 
space  and  all  converge  into  one  stem  60  feet  above 
the  ground,  whence  the  trunk  runs  up  perfectly 
straight.  Around  us^everywhere  were  also  tree  ferns, 
some  of  them  rising  to  30  feet  in  height,  and  besides 
these  there  were  the  enormous  Lycopodiums  with 
leaves  10  feet  long.  These  luxuriant  forms  of  vege- 
tation were  thickly  clustered  upon  the  trees,  and  some 
of  the  masses  must  have  been  of  enormous  weight. 
They  displayed  a glorious  profusion  of  scarlet,  which 
had  taken  full  possession  of  its  supporting  tree,  for 
far  above  the  domed  mass  of  this  superb  parasite  one 
could  see  occasionally  large  clusters  of  brilliant 
blossom  here  and  there.  More  humble,  but  still  very 
beautiful,  was  a little  fern,  similar  to  our  Parsley  Fern, 
which  was  distinguished  by  an  exquisite  iridescent 
blue  all  over  the  upper  side  of  the  leaf,  while  on  the 
under  side  those  fronds  that  were  in  seed  showed  a 
most  brilliant  golden  yellow.  Parrots  great  and  small 
flashed  about  us,  and  now  and  then  we  caught  a glimpse 
of  the  white  cockatoo  with  the  yellow  crest  that  is 
found  all  over  New  Guinea.  As  we  passed  among 
the  feathered  colony,  all  these  birds  set  up  a 
tremendous  screeching.  The  cockatoo,  as  I had 
occasion  to  know  at  a later  period,  can,  when 
wounded,  bite  most  cruelly.  Of  animals  we  saw  little, 
for  the  inhabitants  of  this  region  are  mostly  arboreal 
and  nocturnal.  There  are  several  species  of  the 
smaller  animals,  including  the  tree  kangaroo,  of  which 
I wished  I could  have  secured  some  specimens.  These 
are  born  very  imperfect,  and  are  placed  in  the  pouch  ; 

247 


AMONG  PAPUAN  PEAKS 


when  they  are  once  there  the  mother  squeezes  the 
milk  into  their  mouths. 

We  found  the  village  of  Mafulu  very  small  and  the 
people  extremely  shy.  One  or  two  men  were  about, 
and  the  women  were  at  work  in  their  gardens.  We 
sent  on  some  of  our  men  to  discover  the  best  possible 
camping-place,  a work  of  considerable  difficulty,  for 
there  are  no  plateaux  in  the  Owen  Stanley  range,  and 
the  contour  of  the  ground,  as  I have  already  indicated, 
is  terribly  abrupt.  In  fact,  when  one  has  travelled  for 
some  weeks  in  these  regions,  a peculiar  habit  of 
walking  is  acquired,  which  is  somewhat  equivalent 
to  a sailor’s  sea-legs.  This  acquisition  the  traveller 
does  not  find  out  until  he  returns  to  low,  flat  ground, 
when  he  suddenly  realises  that  he  is  stumbling  at 
every  step,  and  some  practice  is  required  to  recover 
the  ordinary  method  of  locomotion,  and  he  has  to 
break  himself  of  the  habit  of  lifting  his  knees  almost 
to  his  nose.  About  an  hour’s  march  from  the  village 
the  men  discovered  a fairly  level  spot,  and  by  the 
time  we  came  up  they  had,  with  axes  and  knives, 
begun  to  cut  a clearing  of  the  undergrowth  to  enable 
us  to  pitch  our  camp.  We  set  up  our  own  fly-tent 
and  the  natives’  two  tents  and  built  a large  fire,  for 
it  was  very  cold  and  the  boys  were  beginning  to  feel 
the  climate  of  that  high  elevation.  Indeed,  during 
our  whole  stay  at  Mafulu  we  felt  the  stress  of  the 
climate  severely.  That  first  night  was  very  chilly, 
and  it  was  necessary  to  serve  out  blankets  to  the 
natives  in  order  to  enable  them  to  withstand  the 
cold.  They  slung  their  hammocks  on  sticks  or  trees, 
sometimes  one  above  the  other,  and  close  to  these  they 

248 


AMONG  PAPUAN  PEAKS 

built  large  fires  and  kept  them  going  during  the 
night.  The  sky  at  night  was  clear  and  starlit,  but 
the  morning  brought  clouds,  and  mists  enveloped  the 
forest,  often  accompanied  by  heavy  rain  that  made  the 
place  most  depressing.  The  view  was  entirely  shut 
out ; everything  was  dripping ; our  clothes  were  very 
soon  saturated,  and  the  whole  situation  was  most 
uncomfortable. 

The  humidity  of  that  region  was  proved  by  the 
fact  that  the  under  side  of  the  leaves  of  various  plants 
was  covered  with  moss. 

The  day  after  our  arrival  we  began  the  building  of 
a proper  camp.  We  felled  trees,  erected  a stockade 
and  also  a platform  some  little  distance  above  the 
ground ; over  this  last  we  threw  the  fly-tent,  making 
a floor  to  it  of  split  bamboo.  Inside  the  tent  we 
arranged  to  have  a fire  in  the  native  manner.  We 
put  down  a wooden  frame,  inside  which  we  laid 
earth  closely  patted  down  to  form  a hearth  in  the 
Papuan  style.  After  building  our  abode  we  had  to 
discover  another  spot  where  we  could  carry  on  our 
work  at  night.  When  this  was  found,  a further  task 
awaited  us,  for  the  forest  came  so  close  that  we  had 
to  open  up  a space  to  enable  our  lamp  to  shine  out 
and  thus  attract  the  moths.  To  do  this  we  had  to 
fell  more  trees,  and  the  precipitous  nature  of  the 
ground  rendered  our  task  all  the  harder,  for  once 
when  we  had  allowed  a large  newly-felled  trunk  to 
slide,  it  got  out  of  hand  and  careered  three  or  four 
hundred  yards  down  the  precipice,  taking  other  trees 
with  it.  Finally,  however,  we  managed  to  open  up  a 
gap  towards  the  camp,  which  left  us  an  excellent 

249 


AMONG  PAPUAN  PEAKS 


clearing  for  scientific  purposes.  Here  we  built  our 
collecting  verandah,  and  thither  we  repaired  every 
night,  a little  journey  requiring  some  self-sacrifice,  for 
as  we  went  those  dreadful  leeches  I have  already 
described  attacked  our  feet  and  legs  unmerci- 
fully. 

We  had  to  do  a good  deal  of  our  work  unassisted, 
for  our  natives  were  not  willing  to  accompany  us,  as 
they  feared  the  Mafulu  people.  We  knew  perfectly 
well  there  was  some  risk,  and  never  went  up  to  the 
verandah  without  taking  our  revolvers.  As  we 
worked  there  through  the  small  hours,  our  position 
was  brilliantly  lighted  up  by  our  lamp,  so  that,  had 
the  Mafulu  people  wished  to  do  so,  they  would  have 
had  every  opportunity  of  taking  a good  aim  at  us. 
Fortunately,  however,  they  did  not  realise  that  while 
our  lamp  made  us  very  visible  to  them,  it  rendered 
them  entirely  invisible  to  us,  and  although  we  some- 
times felt  rather  uneasy,  we  never  received  any  un- 
pleasant reminder  in  the  shape  of  a hurtling  spear. 
Had  they  known,  however,  how  entirely  we  were  at 
their  mercy,  we  might  not  have  escaped. 

As  we  pursued  our  collecting  here,  it  was  in- 
teresting to  note  the  Alpine  signs  in  insects  and 
flowers.  On  the  trees  grew  a very  fragrant  rhodo- 
dendron. Moths  were  plentiful,  but  butterflies  were 
not,  for  everything  in  this  dense  forest  was  struggling 
for  light,  and  the  butterflies  had  accordingly  retired  to 
the  tops  of  the  trees.  Here  I counted  at  least  twelve 
different  species  of  paradise  birds. 

We  had  not  been  long  at  Mafulu  when  we  were 
faced  with  another  trouble.  Our  food  supply  began 

250 


-A  new  Reptile — Lygosama  Pratti.  2. — Another  new  Reptile — Toxicolamus  Stanleyanus.  3. — A new  fish  of  the  Gobiid  Genus  Rhiacichthys. 

By  permission  oj  the  Zoological  Society  of  London. 


AMONG  PAPUAN  PEAKS 


to  run  low.  We  found  that  the  tinned  provisions 
had  been  tampered  with,  and  suspected  native  thieves ; 
our  suspicions  one  day  being  confirmed,  when  our  dog 
Yule  brought  in  from  the  forest  two  empty  meat  tins 
which  had  been  broken  open  with  the  axe.  This 
evidence  was  incontestable,  for  we  ourselves  always 
used  the  tin-opener.  Of  course,  when  we  taxed  our 
Papuans  they  were  ignorant  of  the  whole  affair.  This 
theft  did  not  improve  our  larder ; meat  ran  out,  we 
had  very  little  tea  and  no  sugar,  only  a scanty  supply  of 
flour,  and,  worst  of  all,  no  salt.  We  were  accordingly 
dependent  upon  sweet  potatoes  and  yams,  which  we 
purchased  from  the  Mafulu  people,  and  occasionally 
a few  bananas  were  obtainable.  The  boys  soon  began 
to  grumble  about  the  cold  and  lack  of  food,  but  the 
real  reason  of  their  discontent  was,  of  course,  fear 
of  the  Mafulu  people.  Every  day  deputations  waited 
on  Sam  and  myself  and  threatened  to  leave.  It  was 
evident  that  the  discontent  was  stirred  up  by  two 
ringleaders,  so  we  found  out  who  these  were  and 
talked  to  them  very  severely,  telling  them  they  might 
go  ; but  two  men  would  not  dare  to  venture  back  to  their 
own  village  through  a hostile  country,  so,  of  course, 
our  permission  to  leave  was  not  taken.  These  troubles 
were  very  annoying,  for  we  wanted  to  remain  as  long 
as  we  could,  as  we  were  getting  admirable  specimens, 
but  about  the  fourteenth  day  of  our  stay  matters  had 
come  to  such  a pass  that  we  had  to  give  the  men  a 
definite  promise  that  we  would  leave  in  a week. 

With  such  a state  of  things  constant  vigilance 
became  necessary,  and  we  had  to  divide  the  nights 
into  watches.  Sam  would  take  three  hours  and 

253 


AMONG  PAPUAN  PEAKS 


then  I would  take  three  hours,  and  some  of  the 
natives  were  always  awake  for  fear  of  other  natives. 
It  was  very  lonely  in  camp,  but  we  passed  the  time 
smoking  and  watching  a few  sweet  potatoes  baking 
in  the  embers.  As  our  own  fellows  were  disaffected, 
it  was  necessary  also  to  keep  them  under  constant 
observation.  From  the  tent  we  could  watch  their 
quarters,  and  Sam  made  a bamboo  bed  in  the  men’s 
shelter.  They,  poor  fellows,  had  rather  a rough  time  of 
it,  apart  from  their  fears  and  discontent,  for  one  night 
a tremendous  deluge  of  rain  swamped  their  quarters. 
Next  day  they  went  into  the  forest  and  cut  a large 
quantity  of  bamboo  leaves,  with  which  they  made  a 
splendid  rain-tight  roof  about  6 inches  thick.  As 
it  would  have  been  a pity  to  have  left  without  doing 
our  best  to  get  specimens  of  the  paradise  bird,  we 
sent  all  our  shooting  boys  away  and  allowed  them 
to  take  a tent  with  them.  The  long-tail  paradise 
birds  frequent  the  Pandanus  trees  when  they  are 
in  seed,  and  when  the  shooters  found  a tree  in  that 
condition  they  would  camp  near  it  and  lie  in  wait 
for  the  birds.  While  this  little  expedition  was  out, 
Sam,  Harry,  myself,  and  a boy  remained  alone  in 
considerable  anxiety,  for  while  the  guns  were  away 
none  of  us  had  any  sleep. 

I cannot  say  that  we  had  any  actual  threats,  but 
the  country  round  about  us  was  disturbed,  and  great 
numbers  of  the  Kabadi  people,  who  had  been  to 
trade  with  Mafulu,  and  were  returning  home,  began 
to  stream  through  our  camp.  They  came  through 
in  strings,  at  intervals  of  an  hour  or  longer.  Some 
of  them  carried  pigs  that  they  had  received 

254 


THE  AUTHOR  ANT)  SOME  NATIVE  COLLECTORS. 


AMONG  PAPUAN  PEAKS 

from  the  Mafulu  people  after  dances  and  entertain- 
ments. These  companies  consisted  of  men,  women, 
and  a very  few  children.  Several  of  them  were  painted 
as  for  a festival,  and  they  always  passed  through  the 
camp  as  quickly  as  possible,  taking  no  notice  of  us. 
The  Mafulu  people  used  to  visit  us  a good  deal  with 
the  ostensible  purpose  of  trading,  but  they  always 
took  care  to  come  armed  with  spears.  This  I did 
not  like  at  all,  so  I directed  them  to  lay  down 
their  arms  before  they  entered,  and  if  they  came  to 
visit  me  after  dark,  I said  they  must  light  torches 
and  hail  me  from  the  edge  of  the  clearing  as  they 
approached.  This  they  did,  but  they  seldom  came 
at  night  after  I had  put  this  restriction  on  them. 
The  few  times,  however,  that  they  did  come  with 
their  torches,  the  sight  was  weirdly  picturesque  as 
the  lights  came  glinting  through  the  trees,  and  then 
congregated  at  the  edge  of  the  clearing,  the  flickering 
glare  throwing  up  the  lithe,  bronze  figures  of  the 
warriors  into  fine  relief  as  they  stood  there  waiting  for 
permission  to  enter  the  white  man’s  enclosure.  They 
seemed  to  have  a lot  of  intimate  conversation  with 
our  people,  although  only  one  of  our  men  knew  their 
language.  They  were,  however,  content  to  do  their 
talking  through  the  interpreter. 

Before  we  left,  our  food  had  practically  run  out 
and  we  were  feeling  the  pinch  very  badly.  Both 
Harry  and  I were  growing  extremely  thin,  and  we 
were  always  taking  in  reefs  in  our  belts.  As  regards 
weight,  however,  we  were  in  fine  walking  form.  The 
nerves  of  my  people  got  no  better.  Sometimes  they 
would  hear  the  Mafulu  people  calling,  and  then  they 

257 


AMONG  PAPUAN  PEAKS 


would  be  on  the  qui  vive,  thinking  something  was 
about  to  happen ; they  were,  in  fact,  like  men  living 
on  a volcano.  Before  we  left  we  were  in  such  stress 
that  we  were  compelled  to  try  bird-of-paradise  soup ; 
it  was  truly  abominable,  and  after  the  first  spoonful 
we  got  no  further. 

All  our  things  were  packed,  and  Harry  and  I were 
inside  taking  the  fly-tent  down,  when  suddenly  we 
heard  a terrible  uproar  among  the  carriers.  I rushed 
out,  but  by  the  time  I got  into  the  open  I found  one 
of  the  native  houses  in  flames,  and  in  less  than  ten 
minutes  the  whole  camp  was  ablaze.  I immediately 
demanded  of  the  boys  what  they  meant  by  this  act, 
but  they  seemed  to  look  upon  it  as  a great  joke,  much 
as  youngsters  at  home  would  regard  a bonfire.  It  is 
not  improbable  that  their  object  was  to  compel  me 
to  go,  for  the  previous  day  my  shooters  had  brought 
in  twelve  paradise  birds,  at  which  I had  shown  great 
delight,  and  they  probably  thought  that  I should  be 
tempted  to  prolong  my  stay.  It  is  just  possible  that 
I might,  for  the  last  days  were  the  richest  we  had 
had  so  far  as  the  capturing  of  birds  and  specimens 
was  concerned.  When  the  camp  was  still  roaring  up 
in  flames  we  departed  with  our  few  remaining 
followers,  the  main  body  having  gone  on  already 
with  the  chief  part  of  the  loads.  One  thing  that 
makes  me  sure  that  the  firing  of  the  camp  was 
deliberate  was  that  the  outbreak  occurred  in  two  or 
three  places  simultaneously. 


258 


CHAPTER  XIII 

LAST  JOURNEY  TO  THE  COAST 

A Dangerous  Stream-Crossing — Babooni — Sunshine  once  more 
— Successful  Work — Poor  Fare — Messengers  to  Ekeikei — The 
Tree-Cabbage — Method  of  Cooking  Tree-Cabbage — A Great 
Curiosity — Spiders’  Webs  as  Fishing-Nets — Dancing  Festivals 
— Back  to  the  Kebea — Our  Bean  Crop — A Papuan  Parliament 
— We  obtain  Credit — A Wife-Beater — My  only  Act  of  Perfidy — 
The  Journey  to  Ekeikei — Back  to  the  Land  of  Plenty — Last 
Visit  toEpa — Mavai  unfriendly — He  is  talked  over  and  supplies 
Carriers — Example  better  than  Precept — The  Coast  again — An 
Accident— The  Natives  drink  Sea-Water — Good-bye  to  the 
Mountaineers. 


4 


CHAPTER  XIII 


LAST  JOURNEY  TO  THE  COAST 

From  our  camp  at  Mafulu  a march  of  from  five  to 
six  hours  brought  us  to  Foula.  On  our  way  we  rested 
at  a little  village,  one  of  those  belonging  to  the  Foula 
people,  but  situated  on  the  opposite  ridge.  There  I 
missed  my  prismatic  compass,  and  was  rather  con- 
cerned, but  I ordered  a thorough  search  in  the  bags, 
and  was  glad  to  find  it.  At  this  village  the  natives 
were  reluctant  to  move  on,  and  I believe  that  they 
were  aware  we  were  about  to  have  bad  weather,  for 
before  we  had  gone  much  farther  we  were  in  the 
midst  of  a deluge.  I accordingly  paid  off  all  the 
unwilling  carriers  and  allowed  them  to  return  home, 
hoping  to  get  more  at  Foula.  There  they  told  us 
that  as  the  Delava  River  was  swollen  there  was  no 
crossing,  so  I went  down  to  inspect  it  myself  and 
found  it  in  a most  terrible  state.  The  stream  was 
full  of  tangled  mangrove  roots  and  treacherous  with 
slimy  ooze.  It  was  a horrible  and  uninviting  flood 
to  enter,  with  its  foul  waters  and  its  mosquitoes,  and 
one  knew  that  it  was  a veritable  fever-trap.  In  we 
had  to  go,  however,  the  natives  making  a terrible 
splashing.  For  the  most  part  we  were  wading  up 
to  our  hips  in  water,  picking  our  way  as  best  we 
could  across  the  tangled  mangrove  roots,  and  occa- 
sionally slipping  down  between  them  to  a depth  of 

261 


LAST  JOURNEY  TO  THE  COAST 


two  feet,  these  slips  threatening  to  take  Harry  out  of 
his  depth.  For  part  of  the  way  we  had  to  swim. 

When  we  had  crossed  we  took  our  way  to  Babooni, 
along  a track  which  ran  up  a valley  and  then  wound 
up  steep  precipices.  There  was  no  actual  village  there, 
but  only  a camp  which  had  been  built  by  Sam  on  the 
extreme  edge  of  the  ridge.  The  situation  was  grandly 
picturesque,  for  this  ridge  terminated  in  an  abrupt 
precipice,  falling  several  hundred  feet,  and  having  the 
appearance  of  a huge  headland  thrust  out  into  the 
valley.  On  each  side  the  cliff  came  to  within  a few 
feet  of  our  collecting  verandah,  and  looking  down 
from  it  we  could  see  the  confluence  of  three  silvery 
streams,  winding  through  charming  tropical  vegetation. 
Babooni  would  have  been  an  ideal  spot  for  a picnic. 
There  we  spent  three  weeks  and  had  wonderful  success 
in  our  work. 

Except  that  we  were  in  daylight  and  amid  delight- 
ful scenery — a welcome  change  from  the  awful  gloom 
of  the  forest  at  Mafulu — we  were,  as  far  as  living 
went,  no  better  off  than  we  had  been  on  the  higher 
ground,  and  our  staple  food  was  still  sweet  potatoes ; 
but  it  was  something  to  have  the  sun  again,  and 
altogether  we  were  conscious  of  a reviving  feeling  of 
exhilaration  at  Babooni.  The  Drepanornis  Albertisii , 
one  of  the  finest  of  the  birds-of-paradise,  abounded, 
and  we  secured  a considerable  number  of  specimens 
on  the  opposite  hill.  I also  secured  a fine  series  of 
the  Ornithoptera  primus,  the  bird-winged  butterfly, 
which  is  distinguished  by  its  beautiful  green  and 
velvet-black  wings,  with  brilliant  golden  fore-wings, 
the  under  side  of  which  is  black.  It  is  very  partial  to 

262 


A SPIDER’S  WEB  AS  a FISHING-NET  : A STRANGE 
NEW  GUINEA  DEVICE. 

A very  huge  and  strong  spider's  web,  common  to  New  Guinea, 
is  used  by  the  natives  as  a fishing-net.  They  set  up  in  the 
forest  a bamboo,  bent  as  in  the  picture,  and  leave  it  until 
the  spiders  have  covered  it  with  a web  in  the  manner 
shown. 


LAST  JOURNEY  TO  THE  COAST 


the  flowers  of  the  tree  Spirea,  among  the  foliage  of 
which  its  black  and  gold  wings  can  continually  be 
seen  twinkling.  Its  colour  contrast,  indeed,  gives  it  a 
most  remarkable  appearance  in  flight. 

But  scientific  work  cannot  be  done  on  sweet 
potatoes  alone,  so  I sent  Wei-Yah  and  five  men  to 
Ekeikei  to  replenish  our  larder.  They  took  a week 
on  the  journey,  and  on  their  return  reported  that  the 
Ekeikei  camp  was  safe,  but  there  had  been  thefts 
from  the  stores  at  the  Kebea.  The  foolish  fellows  had 
come  back  without  salt,  and  as  five  men  cannot  carry 
very  much,  we  were  only  a little  better  off  than  we 
had  been.  We  were  also  in  dire  want  of  “trade,”  and 
there  would  be  fairly  long  accounts  to  settle  with  our 
carriers  for  the  rest  of  the  journey,  the  Foula  men 
having  exhausted  all  our  trade  when  we  paid  them  off 
at  Babooni.  In  our  straits,  however,  nature  provided 
us  with  at  least  one  delicacy,  and  we  shall  always  re- 
member Babooni  gratefully  for  its  tree-cabbage.  These 
edible  leaves  grow  on  a small  tree  like  a sycamore, 
and  the  manner  of  cooking  is  as  follows  : Each  leaf 
is  plucked  separately,  and  when  a sufficient  number 
has  been  got  together  they  are  tied  up  into  neat 
packets,  bound  round  in  banana  leaves  and  cane  string. 
Then  stones  are  collected  and  heated  on  a large  wood 
fire,  and  on  the  top  of  the  hot  stones  the  bundles  of 
cabbage  are  placed,  and  over  them  the  natives  lay 
more  banana  leaves  to  a depth  of  about  two  feet,  and 
above  all  another  layer  of  hot  stones.  In  about  one  hour 
the  cabbage  is  cooked,  the  outer  wrapping  is  taken  off, 
and  the  delicacy  is  served  on  a banana  leaf  or  a dish. 
It  is  a perfect  god-send  to  the  half-starved  traveller. 

265 


LAST  JOURNEY  TO  THE  COAST 


From  Babooni  we  returned  to  the  Kebea,  varying 
our  route  so  as  to  include  the  village  of  Waley,  which 
we  entered  during  a heavy  rainstorm.  Waley  is  a 
pleasantly  situated  village,  occupying  the  whole  of 
one  side  of  a hill,  where  a large  clearing  had  been 
burnt  out  and  planted  with  sugar-cane  and  bananas. 
The  natives  had  also  laid  out  extensive  and  well- 
planted  gardens. 

One  of  the  curiosities  of  Waley,  and,  indeed,  one 
of  the  greatest  curiosities  that  I noted  during  my 
stay  in  New  Guinea,  was  the  spiders’  web  fishing-net. 

In  the  forest  at  this  point  huge  spiders’  webs, 
6 feet  in  diameter,  abounded.  These  are  woven  in 
a large  mesh,  varying  from  i inch  square  at  the  out- 
side of  the  web  to  about  £th  inch  at  the  centre. 
The  web  was  most  substantial,  and  had  great  resist- 
ing power,  a fact  of  which  the  natives  were  not  slow 
to  avail  themselves,  for  they  have  pressed  into  the 
service  of  man  this  spider,  which  is  about  the  size  of 
a small  hazel-nut,  with  hairy,  dark-brown  legs,  spread- 
ing to  about  2 inches.  This  diligent  creature  they 
have  beguiled  into  weaving  their  fishing-nets.  At 
the  place  where  the  webs  are  thickest  they  set  up 
long  bamboos,  bent  over  into  a loop  at  the  end.  In 
a very  short  time  the  spider  weaves  a web  on  this  most 
convenient  frame,  and  the  Papuan  has  his  fishing-net 
ready  to  his  hand.  He  goes  down  to  the  stream  and 
uses  it  with  great  dexterity  to  catch  fish  of  about 
i lb.  weight,  neither  the  water  nor  the  fish  sufficing 
to  break  the  mesh.  The  usual  practice  is  to  stand  on 
a rock  in  a backwater  where  there  is  an  eddy.  There 
they  watch  for  a fish,  and  then  dexterously  dip  it 

266 


LAST  JOURNEY  TO  THE  COAST 


up  and  throw  it  on  to  the  bank.  Several  men  would 
set  up  bamboos  so  as  to  have  nets  ready  all  together, 
and  would  then  arrange  little  fishing  parties.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  the  substance  of  the  web  resisted 
water  as  readily  as  a duck’s  back. 

Waley  was  also  a place  for  dancing.  Thither  the 
tribes  came  for  great  Terpsichorean  festivals,  and 
invitations  used  to  be  sent  as  far  as  Foula  by  special 
messengers  to  bid  the  Foula  people  to  these  enter- 
tainments. As  we  passed  Babooni  we  had  met  these 
couriers  on  their  way  to  tell  the  Foula  people  about 
a dance  that  was  shortly  to  be  held,  and  inviting  them 
to  come  and  bring  all  their  fine  feather-work — the 
Papuan  dress-suit — and  all  their  pretty  women.  These 
dances  often  last  for  a week,  and  the  revellers  feast 
during  the  day  and  at  night  dance  by  torch-light. 
During  the  time  we  were  in  camp  the  noise  of  dancing 
and  singing  never  ceased,  and  the  fat  pigs  were 
continually  being  killed.  This  indispensable  adjunct 
of  Papuan  life  is  solemnly  divided  according  to 
ceremonial  custom,  and  certain  parts  are  reserved  for 
the  leading  degrees  of  the  tribesmen.  The  guests 
receive  the  more  honourable  portions,  and  in  this 
instance  the  chief  from  Foula  would  receive  the  most 
honoured  part  of  all. 

The  tribesmen  come  to  the  dance  fully  armed, 
bearing  spears  io  feet  long,  which  were  often  splen- 
didly decorated  with  birds’  feathers ; over  the  point 
would  be  slung  a pod  full  of  seeds,  which  rattled  as 
the  spear  was  brandished  in  the  dance. 

When  we  left  Waley  we  pursued  a very  winding 
path  through  steep  valleys,  zig-zaging  up  the  face  of 

267  n 


LAST  JOURNEY  TO  THE  COAST 


precipices  and  along  the  tops  of  almost  razor-like 
ridges. 

On  our  return  to  the  Kebea  we  picked  a very  fine 
crop  of  beans  of  our  own  sowing.  The  Papuan  bean 
is  broader  than  ours,  and  is  gathered  at  a rather  later 
stage ; it  is  largely  cultivated  in  the  native  villages. 
Once  at  the  Kebea  we  had  seriously  to  face  the  prob- 
lem of  getting  down  to  the  coast.  Here  we  were 
with  all  our  collections  on  our  hands,  as  well  as  our 
stores  and  “ trade  ” to  meet  the  charges  of  our  carriers 
none  too  plentiful.  Obviously,  the  right  plan  would 
be  to  get  the  natives  to  engage  to  carry  for  us  right 
down  to  Pokama  on  Hall  Sound,  for  if  we  should  be 
faced  with  the  necessity  of  paying  off  a gang  at 
Ekeikei,  we  should  be  cleaned  right  out  of  the  equi- 
valent of  ready  cash.  I opened  negotiations  tentatively, 
and  allowed  the  idea  to  get  wind  among  my  followers ; 
then  the  thing  began  to  be  mooted  in  camp  conver- 
sations, and  the  men  would  go  off  to  discuss  it  with 
their  women-kind.  At  first  they  were  in  great  doubt, 
saying  that  it  was  very  far,  they  did  not  know  the 
country  beyond  such  a place,  and  they  would  be  very 
frightened  in  strange  districts,  especially  on  their  re- 
turn. At  our  invitation  they  gathered  for  a great 
conference,  and  I may  be  said  to  have  summoned  a 
Papuan  Parliament,  which  immediately  went  into 
committee  to  discuss  ways  and  means.  I sent  out 
Ow-bow,  and  several  reliable  fellows  whom  we  knew 
to  be  willing  to  go  all  the  way  with  us,  to  induce  the 
others  to  come  to  the  congress,  and  when  we  got  them 
together  we  told  them  that  if  they  would  go  to  Hall 
Sound  with  us,  we  would  make  each  man  a certain 

268 


FISHING  WITH  THE  SPIDER’S-WEB  NET. 

The  natives  are  here  using  the  curious  net  prepared  in  the  manner  shown  in  another  picture. 


LAST  JOURNEY  TO  THE  COAST 

payment,  enumerating  the  different  articles  we  were 
prepared  to  pay  on  our  arrival  at  Pokama.  We  added 
that  if  any  one  preferred  that  his  wages  should  include 
a preponderance  of  tobacco,  or  beads,  or  calico,  over 
other  articles,  we  should  be  quite  agreeable. 

They  gathered  round  our  little  house,  some  in  and 
some  out,  and  smoked  the  everlasting  bau-bau,  keeping 
up  the  while  a quiet  conversation.  The  women  with 
husbands  made  difficulties,  as  was  to  be  expected. 
They  would  say  to  any  man  who  showed  a disposition 
to  join  the  expedition:  “But  we  want  you  to  help 
us  in  our  gardens.”  One  of  the  wives  proved  especi- 
ally a thorn  in  our  side.  She  was  the  worst  woman 
we  met  in  Papua,  the  possessor  of  a terrible  tongue, 
and  she  was  always  setting  the  men  against  going 
anywhere.  The  other  women  disliked  her  heartily, 
and  there  were  always  rows  when  she  came  into  camp. 
Not  once,  but  twenty  times,  were  we  annoyed  by 
these  disturbances,  for  Gouba,  her  husband,  believed 
in  attempting  to  tame  his  shrew,  although,  alas  ! he 
never  succeeded.  His  methods  were  simple  and 
drastic.  He  would  pick  up  a billet  of  wood,  when 
she  was  half-way  through  a tremendous  scolding,  and 
fetch  her  a terrific  blow  over  the  back.  Thereupon 
ensued  Pandemonium ; the  other  men  and  women 
would  gather  round  jabbering,  but  they  made  no 
attempt  to  stop  the  beating  once  it  had  begun.  The 
unfortunate  man  had  another  wife,  and  the  scolding 
one  was  not  always  with  him,  but  when  she  was 
there  was  trouble.  Gouba  was  willing  enough  to  stay 
with  us,  poor  fellow,  but  Mrs.  Gouba  was  always  on 
the  qui  vive  for  some  village  dance  or  other.  Her 

271 


LAST  JOURNEY  TO  THE  COAST 


social  engagements  invariably  clashed  with  Gouba’s 
industrial  projects,  and  between  them  they  made  the 
camp  very  hot.  To  see  her  running  with  Gouba  after 
her  was  a memorable  sight.  Of  course,  no  Englishman 
likes  to  see  a woman  knocked  about,  but  from  what 
Ow-bow  used  to  tell  us,  I am  persuaded  that  Gouba 
was  a sorely-tried  man,  and  I should  not  be  surprised 
to  hear  that  by  this  time  he  has  arranged  a divorce  on 
Henry  the  Eighth’s  plan,  and  that  Mrs.  Gouba  is  now 
no  more. 

But  to  return  to  our  Parliament.  I finally  carried 
my  point  and  engaged  the  carriers,  but,  alas  ! it  was 
only  by  committing  the  only  act  of  perfidy  which  I 
can  lay  to  my  conscience  in  all  my  dealings  with 
natives.  I found  that  if  we  were  to  get  out  of  the 
country  safely  I must  offer  some  further  inducement, 
other  than  the  ordinary  articles  of  trade,  and  accord- 
ingly, although  I had  no  intention  of  contravening  the 
Government  regulations  so  far,  I said  that  a gun  would 
be  included  in  the  wages  of  those  who  went  down  to 
Pokama.  When  the  time  came  for  this  promise  to  be 
made  good,  I simply  explained  that  the  Government 
would  not  permit  me  to  give  them  the  gun.  They 
acquiesced  quite  cheerfully,  and  consented  to  re- 
ceive compensation  in  other  articles.  That  there 
was  no  discontent  or  resentment,  I am  persuaded, 
and  I had  ample  proof  of  this  in  my  final  parting 
from  my  followers,  which  I shall  relate  in  its  proper 
place. 

We  now  returned  to  Ekeikei,  and  on  arrival  there 
passed  from  the  land  of  starvation  to  the  land  of 
abundance ; hunting  was  once  more  possible,  and 

272 


LAST  JOURNEY  TO  THE  COAST 


early  on  the  morning  after  our  arrival  we  sent  out 
our  shooters,  who  came  in  loaded  with  cassowary, 
Gaura  pigeon,  wallaby,  pig,  and  other  spoils.  The 
natives  were  in  clover  once  again,  and  had  a glorious 
time  building  fires,  dressing  the  game,  and  pre- 
paring the  food,  for  your  Papuan’s  greatest  pleasure 
is  to  eat  as  much  as  he  can,  and  in  the  shortest 
possible  time,  to  sing,  and  then  to  sleep.  Meals  of 
Homeric  generosity  were  devoured,  and  thereafter  our 
people  sat  round  their  camp  fires  singing  the  beautiful 
mountain  melodies  of  which  I have  already  spoken. 
The  prettiest  and  most  soothing  of  all  their  tunes  was 
the  following,  which  has  often  with  its  gentle  cadence 
lulled  me  to  sleep  in  the  wilds : — 


At  Ekeikei  we  had,  of  course,  to  take  up  many 
additional  loads  of  baggage,  and  the  resources  of  our 
staff,  already  severely  tried,  threatened  to  prove  entirely 
inadequate.  Further  recruits  were  not  forthcoming,  so 
all  the  baggage  had  to  be  re-distributed  and  the  bags 
repacked.  Even  when  this  was  done,  and  an  addi- 
tional weight  apportioned  to  each  man,  we  found  that 
ten  carriers  more  would  be  wanted,  but  as  these  were 
not  obtainable  I decided  to  leave  Wei- Yah  with  the 

273 


LAST  JOURNEY  TO  THE  COAST 

remaining  baggage  until  I could  get  down  to  Epa, 
where  I trusted  that  my  old  friend  Mavai  would  send 
it  in  relays  for  me  to  Oo-fa-fa. 

At  Epa  things  looked  rather  hopeless,  for  not  only 
did  five  of  my  carriers  bolt,  leaving  me  saddled  with 
their  loads,  but  Mavai  proved  a broken  reed.  My 
ancient  ally  was  no  longer  a white  man,  and  for  some 
unexplained  reason  had  turned  very  uncivil.  When  I 
asked  for  carriers  he  said  he  had  “ no  people,”  but 
his  village  seemed  as  populous  as  ever,  and  the  same 
numbers  streamed  in  from  the  yam  patch  in  the  even- 
ing. I had  a big  talk  with  him  over  night,  but  could 
make  no  terms  with  him.  Next  morning  Harry  and  I 
again  had  a long  quiet  talk  with  his  Highness,  and  at 
last  he  relented  so  far  that  he  ascended  his  platform, 
but  did  not  don  the  persuasive  red  coat.  He  waxed 
fairly  eloquent,  gesticulated  wildly,  and  at  last,  about 
7 p.m.,  things  took  a better  turn,  and  the  first  earners 
consented  to  engage  with  us.  Then  the  right  honour- 
able gentleman  resumed  his  seat,  having  spoken  just 
over  half-an-hour.  Next  day  they  sulkily  picked  up 
their  loads  and  set  out.  Mavai  himself,  believing 
that  example  was  better  than  precept,  marched  with 
the  first  detachment.  He  himself  shouldered  a load. 
Thus  we  got  everything  away  with  the  exception  of 
two  loads,  the  carriers  in  charge  of  which  sat  sullenly 
in  their  house.  Finally,  Harry  and  I had  to  go  over 
and  make  these  two  fellows  pick  up  their  burdens, 
and  thus  we  took  leave  of  Epa. 

The  journey  to  Oo-fa-fa  was  accomplished  in  very 
sultry,  trying  weather,  through  a country  that  afforded 
little  shade.  The  ground  was  stony,  broken  here 

A74 


A WEIRD  TRIBAL  DANCE, 

' The  central  figure  wears  a huge  head-dress  of  bird  of  Paradise  plumes  surmounted  by  a 
gigantic  aigrette  of  parrots'  feathers  (to  be  seen  in  the  background).  The  rank  and 
hie  wear  grass-fibre  head-dresses. 


LAST  JOURNEY  TO  THE  COAST 


and  there  with  patches  of  wild  oats  and  groups  of 
eucalyptus  trees,  which  ran  up  to  a height  of  about  30 
feet,  and  were  conspicuous  by  their  silvery  bark,  which 
was  constantly  peeling  off  like  tissue  paper. 

Having  once  undertaken  the  job,  Mavai  was  as 
good  as  his  word,  and  took  us  down  to  Oo-fa-fa,  where 
we  got  boats.  There  I had  a nasty  accident.  We 
put  up  for  the  night  in  a hut  belonging  to  Mr.  Jack 
Exton,  the  sandalwood  trader,  a very  industrious  and 
indefatigable  man,  who  has  made  good  roads  to  haul 
his  timber  down  to  the  coast,  and  is  very  popular  with 
the  natives.  “ Jack,”  as  we  called  him,  entertained 
us  very  kindly  at  his  camp  when  we  first  went  to  Epa, 
and  gave  us  every  assistance  in  his  power.  During  the 
first  night  at  Oo-fa-fa  I was  sitting  on  a native  ham- 
mock in  the  hut,  when  suddenly  the  cords  gave  way 
and  I fell  backwards  upon  a sharp  stump  and  hurt  my 
back  severely.  My  leather  belt  saved  me  from  any 
very  serious  injury,  and  there  was  fortunately  no 
penetration,  but  the  pain  was  intense  for  three  or  four 
days.  I fomented  the  bruises  with  hot  water  at 
Oo-fa-fa,  and  managed  to  get  down  to  the  canoe  next 
day,  but  I had  to  lie  still  during  the  rest  of  the 
voyage.  At  Pokama  I was  greatly  relieved  by  the 
application  of  Elliman’s  Embrocation,  but  I had 
difficulty  in  walking  and  was  not  free  from  pain  for 
ten  days. 

At  the  Sound  some  of  the  native  carriers,  those 
paying  their  first  visit  to  the  coast,  drank  great 
quantities  of  salt  water  without  evil  consequences. 

The  canoe  voyage  was  rather  uneventful.  Our 
flotilla  was  not  numerous  enough ; the  canoes  we 

277 


LAST  JOURNEY  TO  THE  COAST 


had  were  overladen,  and,  accordingly,  we  sent  some 
baggage  overland  to  Pokama.  At  that  point  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Dauncey  received  us  with  great  hospitality,  and 
with  him  we  stayed  while  we  were  paying  off  our 
natives.  To  Ow-bow  I entrusted  the  wages  of  the 
five  rascals  who  had  run  away  from  us  at  Epa,  and 
I have  no  doubt  he  paid  it  over  scrupulously. 

After  our  business  was  concluded,  the  mountain 
people  went  away  with  very  happy  faces,  and  bade  us 
good-bye,  cordially  hoping  that  they  would  see  us 
again,  and  saying  that  on  my  return,  if  I sent  for 
them,  they  would  come  down  to  the  coast  and  carry 
me  up-country.  Some  of  them  even  wept  as  they 
took  leave,  and  I must  confess  that  I was  genuinely 
sorry  to  part  from  my  warm-hearted,  good-natured 
followers,  who  had  up  to  the  last  served  me  faith- 
fully, in  spite  of  occasional  fits  of  refractoriness, 
which,  after  all,  were  easy  enough  to  understand. 
It  said  a good  deal  for  them  that  they  followed  the 
unknown  white  man  as  cheerfully  as  they  did. 


278 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A FORTY-MILE  TRAMP  BY  THE  SHORE 

A Comfortless  Voyage — A Forty-Mile  Tramp  along  the  Coast 
— Wonders  of  the  Beach — Armies  of  Soldier-Crabs — A Crocodile 
River — A Dangerous  Canoe  Voyage — At  Port  Moresby — A 
Pathetic  Incident — Last  Days  of  our  Stay  in  New  Guinea. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


A FORTY-MILE  TRAMP  BY  THE  SHORE 

At  Pokama  we  got  on  board  a vessel  very  heavily 
laden  with  sandalwood.  I did  not  notice  how 
perilously  deep  she  was  in  the  water  until  after  we 
had  put  to  sea.  This  promised  a voyage  of  great 
discomfort,  and  Harry  shortly  became  very  sick. 
Partly  on  this  account,  and  partly  because  we  wanted 
to  see  a certain  part  of  the  coast  more  minutely,  we 
went  ashore  in  a small  boat,  and  slept  that  night  at 
the  house  of  a coloured  teacher  in  the  service  of 
the  London  Missionary  Society.  Next  morning  we 
set  out  on  foot  for  Manu-Manu,  forty  miles  distant, 
a long  and  very  toilsome  tramp,  often  rendered  doubly 
difficult  by  the  uncertain  sands  of  the  beach. 
Where  the  tide  had  left  it  wet  we  found  it  as  firm 
to  walk  upon  as  a bicycle  track,  but  in  the  dry  sand 
we  often  sunk  to  our  knees.  Harry,  especially,  suf- 
fered severely,  and  his  ankles  were  sore  for  a long 
time  after.  The  heat  also  was  terrific,  and  added 
greatly  to  our  discomfort ; but  the  walk  was  not 
without  its  interest  and  its  diversion,  although  in 
point  of  scenery  it  was  rather  monotonous.  Very 
conspicuous  on  the  fringe  of  the  coast  vegetation 
was  the  true  species  of  the  shore  Pandanus.  Inland 
was  dense  forest,  diversified  with  patches  of  grass 
and  marshland.  Our  itinerary  was  as  follows : Our 

281 


A TRAMP  BY  THE  SHORE 


first  stage  was  twenty-two  miles  from  Giabada  to 
Issu,  the  way  being  greatly  lengthened  by  the  need 
to  follow  the  bend  of  ever-recurring  bays,  where  the 
treacherous  sand  and  the  lack  of  shelter  from  the 
sun  proved  particularly  trying.  But  at  this  part  of 
the  march  we  saw  one  of  the  most  extraordinary 
sights  of  all  our  travels — many  thousands  of  soldier- 
crabs  traversing  the  sandy  beach  in  detached,  regu- 
larly ordered  bodies  that  moved  evidently  by  the 
signal  of  some  common  commander.  These  “ armed 
battalions”  stretched  for  miles,  and  no  matter  what 
figure  they  assumed — whether  wedge,  triangle,  or 
rhombus — the  dressing,  so  to  speak,  of  the  outer 
ranks  was  perfect,  and  would  have  put  many  a 
Volunteer  corps  to  shame.  Not  a crab  was  out  of 
line.  The  advance  was  fairly  rapid,  and  was  always 
towards  the  sea,  for  a distance  of,  say,  two  hundred 
yards.  When  the  crabs  come  out  of  their  holes  in 
the  sand  they  throw  themselves  into  this  compact 
formation  probably  for  safety.  There  was  no  walk- 
ing along  the  beach  for  them  — scarcely  a clear 
hundred  yards  for  miles.  When  approached,  they 
quickened  their  pace  perceptibly. 

The  individual  crab  is  small  and  has  no  shell. 
The  spread  of  the  legs  would  probably  be  ij  inches, 
and  the  body  is  of  a dark  fawn  colour,  exactly  re- 
sembling the  wet  sand  of  the  beach,  so  that  the 
creature’s  hue  is  without  doubt  yet  another  of  Nature’s 
adaptations  for  protection.  It  is  remarkable  also  that 
it  imitates  only  the  wet  sand,  for  the  dry  sand  is  of 
a dazzling  silky  whiteness. 

At  Issu  we  stayed  for  the  night,  and  did  our  best 

282 


Some  of  the  houses  of  Elevada,  one  of  the  pottery  towns,  may  be  seen  by  the  sea. 


A TRAMP  BY  THE  SHORE 


to  sleep,  although  the  sand-flies  were  a great  torment. 
From  Issu  we  went  on  to  Manu-Manu,  a stretch  of 
eighteen  miles,  and  as  we  went  we  saw  many  sharks, 
who  followed  us  close  inshore  and  kept  pace  with 
us  for  a considerable  distance,  hoping  in  vain  that 
we  would  be  unwise  enough  to  bathe.  Some  natives, 
who  had  followed  us  from  Giabada,  tried  to  kill  them 
by  throwing  sticks. 

Manu-Manu  was  our  last  halt  before  taking  a 
canoe  for  Port  Moresby.  At  the  former  place  we 
found  some  men  to  assist  us,  and  after  spending 
the  night  there,  and  the  best  part  of  the  following 
day  in  preparation,  we  embarked.  At  the  mouth  of 
the  Manu  - Manu  River  the  crocodiles  swarmed  in 
the  brackish  water.  This  is  the  point  where  there 
occurred  the  fight  between  the  natives  and  the  croco- 
diles which  I described  in  one  of  my  earlier  chapters. 
The  canoe  voyage  that  we  made  at  this  time  was  one 
that  was  only  possible  in  fine  weather,  for  there  were 
many  nasty  headlands  to  round.  The  bays  were  very 
deep,  and  at  the  middle  of  the  crossing  from  point 
to  point  we  would  often  be  ten  miles  off  the  land. 
Often,  too,  there  were  treacherous  reefs  to  avoid,  but 
fortunately  we  had  moonlight  after  2 a.m.  ; and  so, 
sometimes  sailing  and  sometimes  paddling,  we  passed 
the  villages  of  Boira  and  Borepada  and  reached  Port 
Moresby  at  five  on  the  evening  of  the  day  after  we 
had  left  Manu-Manu.  We  arrived  at  the  Govern- 
ment station  just  about  the  same  time  as  the  ketch 
which  was  bearing  the  bulk  of  our  baggage. 

We  entered  Port  Moresby  by  the  western  entrance, 
which  is  not  deep  enough  for  large  ships,  and  can 

285 


A TRAMP  BY  THE  SHORE 


only  be  made  by  canoes.  At  Port  Moresby  we  had 
intended  to  put  up  as  formerly  at  Sam’s  house,  but 
we  found  news  of  deep  affliction  awaiting  our  faithful 
head-man.  His  wife  Heli  was  in  terrible  distress,  for 
she  had  lost  two  children  while  her  husband  was  with 
us  in  the  interior.  Both  were  boys,  one  of  seventeen 
known  as  George,  and  the  other  a bright  little  fellow 
of  ten  called  Foralis,  who  had  been  a great  favourite 
of  ours  on  our  former  visit,  and  who  used  to  make 
himself  very  useful  to  us. 

Poor  George’s  death  was  a merciful  release,  for 
although  he  was  so  well  on  in  his  teens,  he  was  a 
mere  dwarf,  and  had  been  ill  since  his  birth — a 
sufferer  from  the  so-called  New  Guinea  disease,  that 
incurable  and  mysterious  disorder  which  eats  away 
the  legs.  It  is  believed  to  be  a form  of  leprosy. 
He  was  a fleshless,  melancholy  little  being,  who  lay 
in  bed  all  day,  hardly  ever  moving.  He  had,  how- 
ever, all  his  senses,  and  it  was  pathetic  to  see  him 
pursuing  his  only  amusement,  playing  with  the  petals 
of  flowers  and  with  different  coloured  papers,  of  which 
he  sometimes  made  strings.  Sam  must  have  missed 
Foralis  very  keenly,  for  the  youngster  was  at  a most 
attractive  age,  and  was  beginning  to  be  very  useful  in 
various  ways.  He  had  become  quite  a bold  little 
horseman,  and  would  often  ride  on  errands  for  his 
father. 

We  spent  five  days  at  Port  Moresby  in  the  usual 
routine  of  packing  for  the  homeward  voyage,  the  first 
stage  of  which  we  performed  on  the  small  steamer 
Parua,  which  took  us  to  Cooktown,  where  we  were 
interested  to  note  the  relics  of  former  mining]  activity, 

286 


A TRAMP  BY  THE  SHORE 


for  the  place  enjoyed  a brief  spell  of  prosperity,  during 
which  pretentious  banks  and  public  buildings  sprang 
up,  and  still  stand  there  as  if  in  mockery  of  its 
absolute  deadness.  The  time  was  when  they  took 
fifty  tons  of  gold  from  the  Palmer  River,  but  those 
days  had  long  gone  by,  although  there  is  certainly 
plenty  of  mineral  wealth  in  the  hinterland  that  is 
entirely  unworked,  and  excellent  for  tin  miners  espe- 
cially. No  effort  has  been  made  to  work  this,  and 
it  is  difficult  to  get  money  for  even  a gold  mine  at 
the  back  of  Cooktown,  so  much  British  capital  has 
been  lost  there  in  wild-cat  schemes.  A once  busy 
railway  still  runs  fitfully  to  the  Palmer  River. 

We  stayed  three  weeks  at  Cooktown,  and  during 
the  second  week  we  witnessed  a thunderstorm  that 
transcended  in  violence  the  worst  I had  ever  seen  in 
South  America,  and  that  is  saying  a good  deal. 
After  an  intensely  oppressive  morning,  a black  cloud 
came  up  from  the  westward,  and  the  storm  burst 
with  startling  suddenness.  In  less  than  half-an-hour 
every  street  was  a veritable  river,  and  the  lightning, 
continuous  and  seemingly  ubiquitous,  was  accompanied 
by  cracking  and  rending  thunder  that  could  only  be 
described  as  appalling.  Fortunately,  no  one  was 
killed,  and  the  only  damage  was  to  the  roof  of 
Burns’s  store,  which  was  struck  by  lightning. 

Save  for  the  thunderstorm,  our  stay  at  Cooktown 
was  utterly  uneventful,  and  at  the  end  of  the  third 
week  we  went  down  to  Sydney  and  came  home  by 
the  White  Star  line. 


287 


CHAPTER  XV 

NATIVE  MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 

The  Papuan  at  Home — His  Good  Points — Physical  Char- 
acteristics— Ceremonial  Dress  — Coast  and  Hill  Tribes  — 
Differences — Local  Distribution  of  the  Rami  or  Petticoat — Its 
Decrease  in  Length  in  the  Mountains — Its  Disappearance  at 
Epa — Dandyism — The  Priceless  Chimani — The  Shell  Armlet — 
Household  Constitution — Rudimentary  Government — Courtship 
and  Marriage — The  Price  of  a Wife — Position  of  Women — Six 
Ways  of  Carrying  an  Infant — Meal  Times — Weapons — Clubs — 
Their  Manufacture  the  Monopoly  of  One  Tribe — Weird  Tribal 
Dances. 


O 


CHAPTER  XV 

PAPUAN  MANNERS,  CUSTOMS,  AND  SUPERSTITIONS 

My  object  in  visiting  New  Guinea,  as  the  reader 
already  knows  very  well,  was  not  to  prosecute  the 
proper  study  of  mankind,  according  to  Mr.  Alexander 
Pope,  but  it  was  impossible  to  live  daily  with  those 
unspoilt  children  of  nature  without  observing  a good 
deal  that  was  curious  and  noteworthy.  I cannot 
pretend  to  be  a trained  ethnologist,  and  accordingly 
the  notes  that  I have  set  down  in  this  chapter  on 
manners  and  customs  make  no  pretension  to  any 
scientific  co-ordination.  I shall  not  therefore  venture 
to  draw  conclusions,  nor  advance  any  theories  such  as 
would  fall  within  the  province  of  the  professed  an- 
thropologist. My  notes,  too,  were  fragmentary,  and 
often,  owing  to  the  stress  of  our  journeyings  and  the 
pressure  of  the  work  which  it  was  incumbent  on  me 
to  prosecute,  I had  perforce  to  leave  unrecorded  at 
the  time  many  things  that  might  be  useful  to  the 
student  of  primitive  peoples.  Such  observations,  how- 
ever, as  I am  able  to  make,  however  incomplete,  may 
safely  be  regarded  as  at  first-hand,  and  it  is  probable 
that  in  the  majority  of  cases  they  were  taken  under 
exceptionally  favourable  conditions  for  observing  the 
people  just  as  they  are.  During  our  journeyings  in 
the  interior  we  depended  on  native  help  alone,  and 
the  people  whom  we  employed  were  not,  one  might 

291 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 


say,  scared  out  of  their  usual  way  of  life  by  the 
presence  of  a large  body  of  white  men.  I and  my 
son  went  absolutely  alone  into  the  wilds  with  no 
white  lieutenant.  We  cast  ourselves,  as  it  were,  on 
the  hospitality  of  the  aboriginal  Papuan  (and  can- 
nibal at  that),  but  as  the  reader  has  seen,  we  had 
no  reason  to  regret  our  draft  on  the  bank  of  savage 
fidelity. 

In  my  second  chapter  I described  the  warlike 
Tugeri  of  Dutch  New  Guinea,  a tribe  whose  ferocity 
has  been  such  a thorn  in  the  side  of  British  and 
Netherland  officials  alike.  I certainly  should  not 
have  cared  to  trust  myself  with  the  Tugeri,  but  with 
the  gentler  people  of  the  south-east  portion  of  the 
island  there  was  comparatively  no  great  risk.  My 
first  close  acquaintance  with  the  Papuans  was  with 
the  Motuan  tribe,  who  lived  around  Port  Moresby, 
and  my  earliest  acquaintances  were  made  among  the 
potters  of  Hanuabada.  The  Motuans  are  fairly 
numerous,  numbering,  it  is  said,  about  1400  in  the 
Port  Moresby  district;  they  may  be  taken  as  the 
type  of  coast  natives  in  this  quarter,  and  roughly, 
for  the  purposes  of  this  account,  I may  distinguish 
between  “ coast-men  ” and  “ hill-men,”  taking  the 
former  to  extend  as  far  up  as  Epa.  The  Motuan 
men  are  well-grown,  standing  about  5 feet  10  inches 
on  an  average,  the  height  of  the  women  being  from 
about  5 feet  6 inches  to  5 feet  8 inches.  Their 
features  are  very  varied,  and  do  not  incline  to  any 
single  type.  The  colour  is  of  a rich  bronze,  and 
they  are  well  and  sturdily  made.  Most  of  them 
have  mop-like  hair  very  much  frizzed,  and  some  wear 

292 


HANUABADA  WOMEN  WEARING  THE  RAMI,  OR  PETTICOAT  MADE  OK  LEAVES. 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 


it  tied  up,  while  others  have  it  short  and  curly, 
looking  almost  as  if  it  had  been  cropped  and  lying 
close  to  the  scalp.  What  we  may  call  the  “ cropped  ” 
hair  required  little  dressing,  but  to  keep  the  mop 
hair  in  order  they  use  a comb  like  a wide  fork  with 
five  prongs  and  a fairly  longish  handle.  With  this 
implement  they  comb  out  their  hair  elaborately. 

For  ceremonial  dances,  and  on  festal  occasions, 
they  wear  a wonderful  head-dress  made  of  cockatoo 
feathers,  which  looks,  when  it  is  assumed,  like  an 
enormous  flat  horseshoe,  passing  over  the  top  of  the 
head  and  slightly  in  front  of  the  ears.  It  conceals 
the  ears  entirely  when  the  observer  looks  the  wearer 
full  in  the  face. 

The  most  cherished  ornament,  however,  is  the 
necklace  of  dogs’  teeth,  which  is  prized  by  the 
Papuans  beyond  any  article  of  “ trade  ” that  the 
traveller  can  give  them.  Not  even  a knife  or  an 
axe  is  so  welcome,  nor  can  the  traveller  get  so 
much  work  out  of  the  Papuan  for  any  steel  imple- 
ment as  he  can  for  one  or  two  teeth.  I knew  of  a 
case  where  a missionary,  not  with  any  fraudulent 
intention,  but  merely  from  a desire  to  test  Papuan 
intelligence,  manufactured  imitation  dogs’  teeth  very 
cunningly  out  of  bone,  and  offered  them  to  a native. 
The  man,  however,  had  too  keen  an  eye  to  be  done  ; 
he  weighed  the  teeth  critically  in  his  hand  for  a 
moment,  and  then  handed  them  back  with  a scornful 
“ No  good.” 

A further  adjunct  of  their  very  simple  costume 
is  the  armlet,  which  is  knitted  from  grass  fibre  with 
a pointed  cassowary  bone.  This  primitive  needle 

295 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 


has  a hole  running  up  its  entire  length  through 
which  the  grass  fibre  is  threaded,  and  then  the 
ornament  is  woven  either  in  a diagonal  pattern  or 
in  straight  horizontal  stripes,  with  strands  of  various 
colours.  They  often  actually  knit  it  round  the  arm 
or  the  wrist  quite  tightly,  and  when  this  is  done 
the  ornament  is  permanent,  and  is  never  removed 
until  it  is  worn  out.  Sometimes  they  wear  a bunch 
of  flowers  stuck  into  the  armlet,  and  these  not  par- 
ticularly fragrant,  but  the  Papuans  are  persuaded  that 
it  is  quite  otherwise,  and,  pointing  to  their  bouquet, 
they  say  with  delightful  naivetd,  “ Midina  Namu  ” — 
“ Good  smell.”  Alas ! it  is  really  the  reverse,  and 
the  wearers  of  flowers  in  this  manner  are  by  no 
means  pleasant  neighbours. 

They  also  wear  anklets  of  feathers  and  strings  of 
beads,  and  in  some  of  their  dances  I have  seen  them 
decorated  with  huge  bunches  of  grass,  which  hang 
from  between  the  shoulders  and  sweep  the  ground. 
Some  also  affect  a light  band  at  the  knee,  and  light 
cane  anklets  which  rattle  as  they  dance. 

Indispensable  to  the  men  is  the  little  bag  which 
carries  their  few  personal  possessions : their  betel-nut, 
their  lime  gourd  and  knife,  the  invariable  adjunct 
of  the  delightful  vice  of  chewing  betel — as  every 
traveller  in  the  Malay  Archipelago  knows — and  the 
“ Paw-paw,”  a fruit  with  which  a little  European 
tobacco  is  often  eaten.  The  coast  women  carry  a 
much  larger  bag  of  knitted  fibre,  which  may  be  best 
described  by  saying  that  it  resembles  a hammock 
with  the  ends  tied  together ; in  this  they  carry 
potatoes  and  wood,  and  sometimes  it  is  borne  upon 

296 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 


the  head,  the  centre  of  it  being  brought  over  so 
that  it  is  supported  by  the  forehead,  while  the  taper- 
ing ends  hang  down  over  the  shoulders.  At  other 
times  it  is  carried  round  the  neck. 

The  chief  costume  of  the  women  of  the  coast 
tribes  is  the  extraordinary  petticoat  made  of  grass  or 
of  a wide-bladed  weed,  each  leaf  of  which  would 
be  about  3 inches  wide.  The  blades  composing 
this  garment  fall  down  perpendicularly  from  a waist- 
band, to  which  layer  after  layer  is  attached,  until 
the  “ Rami  ” has  that  fine  spread  which  used  to  be 
attained  by  more  civilised  women  by  a contrivance 
which  I believe  was  called  a “ dress-improver.”  As 
we  went  inland  and  rose  gradually  higher  and  higher 
in  the  mountains,  we  observed  that  the  “Rami”  was 
growing  shorter  and  shorter,  until  at  length,  just 
after  we  had  passed  Epa,  it  disappeared  altogether ; 
and  one  may  reasonably  consider  the  absence  or  pre- 
sence of  this  garment  as  the  great  symbol  of  division 
between  the  coast  natives  and  those  of  the  highlands 
proper. 

Among  the  men,  both  highland  and  lowland,  the 
great  symbol  of  dandyism  is  the  “Chimani,”  or  nose 
ornament.  This  is  made  from  a section  of  a shell 
about  f of  an  inch  thick  in  the  middle,  and  tapering 
most  beautifully  towards  the  ends.  It  is  accurately 
made,  perfectly  round  and  polished,  and  a good 
example  would  be  about  a span  long.  A fine 

“ Chimani  ” very  often  has  two  black  rings  painted 
round  it,  about  1 inch  distant  from  the  end.  These 
things  are  manufactured  by  the  coast  people,  and 
they  drift  by  exchange  through  the  whole  country. 

297 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 


Very  few  young  blades  can  afford  to  possess  one, 
and  accordingly  it  may  be  lent,  either  for  a considera- 
tion or  as  a very  special  favour.  The  possessor  of 
one  of  these  ornaments  could  easily  buy  a wife  for 
it,  and  sometimes  it  is  paid  as  a tribal  tribute  by 
one  who  may  have  to  pay  blood-money,  or  is  unable 
to  give  the  statutory  pig  as  atonement  for  a murder. 

Another  shell  ornament  is  the  armlet,  made  from 
the  lower  part  of  one  species  of  a conical  shell ; a 
section  of  this  adornment  would  present  the  figure  of 
a pointed  oval,  and,  according  to  the  part  of  the  shell 
from  which  the  armlet  has  been  cut,  its  ends  either 
meet  or  overlap  without  touching.  To  it  they  some- 
times attach  European  beads  or  little  fragments  of  tin. 
Its  manufacture  entails  a great  deal  of  work  and  a long 
continued  grinding  on  stone  or  other  hard  substance. 
Sam  had  a very  fine  one  which  he  presented  to  a man 
in  order  that  that  man  might  buy  a wife,  and  my  head- 
man’s generosity  will  be  understood  when  I mention 
that  one  of  these  armlets  fetches  A 5 at  Port  Moresby. 
A very  affluent  person  will  wear  one  on  each  arm,  or 
two  on  one  arm,  as  I sometimes  observed  was  the  case 
among  the  coast  natives.  This  occurred  chiefly  at 
Hula. 

As  regards  households  and  tribal  government,  the 
Papuan  customs  are  simple  in  the  extreme ; there  is 
no  augmentation  of  households  on  the  patriarchal 
system  of  the  sons  bringing  the  wives  under  the 
parental  roof.  Each  household  consists  of  the  father, 
mother,  and  children.  The  sons  when  they  marry  set 
up  a separate  establishment,  and  when  all  have  married 
the  grandparents  usually  remain  alone. 

298 


BUYING  A WIFE  : a’nEW  GUINEA  WOOING. 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 


The  men  marry  after  they  are  eighteen  and  the 
girls  much  younger,  for  they  are  considered  ready  for 
double-blessedness  at  fourteen.  In  the  case  of  the 
men,  there  are  exceptions  to  this  rule,  for  we  met  an 
experienced  young  gentleman  of  fourteen,  Kaukwai, 
who  confided  to  us,  with  an  air  of  deep  wisdom,  that 
he  had  already  had  two  wives  and  had  dismissed  them 
both. 

In  the  villages  there  was  no  clearly  defined  form  of 
government.  There  was,  of  course,  invariably  a chief, 
but  his  authority  was  not  great,  and  nowhere  did  I see 
an  autocrat,  except  Mavai,  with  whom  the  reader  is 
already  well  acquainted.  There  is  no  regular  council 
of  elders,  but  in  isolated  instances  the  younger 
men  may  go  to  the  elder  for  advice.  The  villagers, 
however,  are  wonderfully  conservative  in  their  institu- 
tions, and  marriage  between  distant  villages  is  un- 
common. The  man  who  dares  to  bring  a wife  from 
a distance  gains  great  credit  for  an  enterprising  person. 
At  Amana,  for  instance,  we  found  an  interpreter  who 
had  married  a Foula  woman,  and  this  person  was 
accounted  strong-minded.  He  had  either  learnt  the 
Foula  dialect  from  his  wife  or  had  acquired  it  while  he 
was  staying  at  Foula  courting  her. 

The  method  of  wooing  is,  as  with  all  primitive 
peoples,  more  commercial  than  romantic.  The  intend- 
ing suitor  generally  comes  to  the  point  during  a tribal 
dance  which  has  been  arranged  by  calling  from  hill 
to  hill.  If  the  woman  agrees  to  the  match,  the  wooer 
does  not  think  it  at  all  necessary  to  make  overtures  to 
her  father,  but  should  negotiations  be  required  he  is 
neither  laggard  nor  bashful.  He  puts  the  price  in  his 

301 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 


bag  and  approaches  the  house  of  the  sire,  entering 
boldly  and  sitting  down  unbidden.  Not  infrequently 
the  girl  also  comes  in  and  sits  probably  in  a hammock, 
listening  to  the  debate  on  which  her  destiny  hangs. 
The  suitor  at  once  names  his  price ; if  the  old  man 
thinks  this  is  a promising  bargain,  he  shows  himself 
quite  willing  to  discuss  matters.  If  there  is  tobacco, 
the  suitor  takes  up  his  host’s  “ Bau-bau,”  draws  a 
few  whiffs,  passes  it  to  the  father,  scratches  his  head 
violently  with  both  hands,  and  proceeds  to  haggle. 
Should  the  father  think  the  match  a good  thing,  he 
seldom  withholds  his  consent  long,  but  if  he  considers 
the  young  man  is  under-bidding,  he  holds  out  stiffly 
till  the  youth  has  raised  the  price  sufficiently.  As 
soon  as  the  father  consents,  the  bride  is  taken  away  at 
once  and  without  any  fuss.  There  is  no  ceremony  and 
no  wedding  feast. 

The  women  are  the  agricultural  labourers  of  Papua. 
Early  in  the  morning  they  go  out  to  till  the  gardens 
and  the  yam-  or  taro-patch  ; they  are  the  hewers  of 
wood  and  the  drawers  of  water.  Every  night  at 
Hanuabada  we  used  to  watch  the  long  files  of  them 
wading  across  the  shallow  channels  to  the  villages, 
carrying  the  great  bundles  of  wood  they  had  collected. 
Their  families  are  not  large,  seldom  more  than  two 
or  three  children,  and  though  they  treat  them  quite 
kindly,  there  is  no  demonstrative  affection.  At  seven 
years  old  the  children  are  expected  to  assist  in 
domestic  affairs,  and  begin  to  take  their  little  part  of 
carrying  water  and  firewood  to  the  village.  Their 
faggots  are  tied  up  with  wild  cane  string  and  are 
carried  home  on  the  women’s  backs. 

302 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 


When  the  women  go  out  to  the  garden,  or  when 
they  aid  in  heavy  transport  service,  as  in  the  case  of 
my  expedition,  the  baby  always  accompanies  them, 
and  I counted  at  least  six  different  ways  of  carrying 
the  infant.  i.  In  the  net-bag,  slung  behind,  and 
supported  by  the  band  passed  across  the  mother’s 
forehead  ; to  save  abrasion  a leaf  was  placed  between 
the  forehead  and  the  knot  made  by  tying  the  two  ends 
of  the  bag  together.  Among  many  of  the  women 
I noted  a patch  of  white  hair,  just  at  the  point  where 
the  knot  had  pressed.  2.  The  child  on  the  top  of 
the  load,  supported  by  the  mother’s  left  arm.  This,  of 
course,  refers  to  the  time  when  they  were  carrying  for 
us,  and  had  a particularly  heavy  burden.  3.  Astride 
of  one  shoulder;  this  was  practised  by  the  men,  and 
the  infant  was  so  placed  as  to  face  the  side  of  his 
father’s  head.  4.  Also  a man’s  method,  pick-a-back, 
with  the  little  legs  round  the  father’s  neck.  5.  The 
child  with  the  arms  clasped  round  the  father’s  neck 
and  no  other  support  at  all.  6.  Similar  to  the  last, 
except  that  the  child  in  this  instance  was  carried  by 
the  mother,  who,  being  blessed  with  an  exceptional 
spread  of  “ Rami  ” behind,  oould  allow  the  little  one’s 
feet  to  rest  comfortably  on  that. 

In  the  village  communities  on  the  hills  there  was 
no  very  regular  observance  of  meal-times.  They  ate 
when  they  wanted  to,  but  on  the  coast  a meal  was 
taken  in  the  morning,  in  the  afternoon,  in  the  early 
evening,  and  sometimes  at  night.  The  cooking  was 
done  by  the  women  in  the  round  earthenware  pots 
mentioned  in  the  description  of  the  Hanuabada 
potters. 


303 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 


In  point  of  dress  and  appearance  the  mountain 
people  differ  widely  from  those  of  the  coast.  The 
place  of  the  “Rami”  is  taken  by  the  cheebee,  or 
perineal  band,  a simpler  garment  than  even  the  fig-leaf. 
They  are  a shorter  people,  with  better  developed  legs 
than  the  coast  natives,  which  is  no  doubt  owing  to  the 
extraordinary  exercise  imposed  on  the  limbs  by  the 
difficulties  of  the  ground. 

The  women  wear  fewer  adornments  than  the  men, 
their  principal  ornaments  being  the  dogs’  teeth  neck- 
lace and  armlet,  and  on  the  breast  a pearl  shell,  ground 
with  a stone  night  and  day  for  three  weeks  until  the 
outer  shell  is  gone  and  the  mother-of-pearl  is  left  bare 
and  polished.  They  tie  up  their  hair  with  bark  so 
that  the  hair  itself  can  hardly  be  seen,  and  sometimes 
they  plait  it  up  into  small  tails.  They  carry  the 
customary  bag  of  small  odds  and  ends,  and  their 
weapons  are  distinctly  formidable.  These  consist 
of  the  spear  and  club  only.  The  spear  is  pointed 
and  jagged,  and  is  made  of  very  hard  red-wood ; the 
club  has  a heavy  stone  top,  elaborately  hewn  into 
sharp  bosses.  The  Dinawa  people  do  not  know  how 
to  make  these  clubs,  which  are  manufactured  in  the 
Keakama  district,  and  their  presence  in  the  hills 
proves  that  there  is  some  system  of  commercial  dis- 
tribution. 

But  the  most  splendid  of  all  the  articles  of  the 
Papuan  costume  is  the  feather  head-dress,  16  feet 
high,  which  forms  the  central  point  of  attraction  when 
it  occurs  in  a tribal  dance.  This  ornament  is 
extremely  rare,  and  is  always  an  heirloom,  for  it  has 
taken  generations  to  complete.  It  is  a wonderful, 

304 


1.  — A STONE-HEADED  CLUB. 

2.  — VARIOUS  FORMS  OF  THE  BAU-BAU,  OR  TOBACCO  PIPE,  SHOWING 

DIFFERENT  KINDS  OF  ORNAMENTATION. 

Note  on  the  left  of  the  pipes  the  butt  of  one,  showing  how  the  end  is  closed 
by  the  natural  section  of  bamboo. 


3. — A STONE  AXE. 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 

fantastic  device  of  feathers,  built  upon  a light  frame- 
work. The  Bird  of  Paradise  and  the  Gaura  pigeon  are 
laid  under  tribute  for  its  construction,  and  the  feathers 
of  the  different  birds,  and  of  different  species  of  the 
same  bird,  are  kept  carefully  apart,  and  are  arranged  in 
rows  according  to  their  natural  order.  A few  lines 
of  Bird  of  Paradise,  a few  lines  of  Gaura  pigeon,  then 
a few  lines  of  another  species  of  Bird  of  Paradise, 
and  so  on.  The  whole  contrivance  is  most  fantastic, 
and  looks  really  impressive  in  the  weird  light  of  the 
torches  as  the  dancers,  decorated  with  flowing  bunches 
of  grass  behind,  proceed  with  their  revel. 

The  dances  of  the  hill  tribes  are  not  elaborate  in 
form,  and  consist  principally  of  violent  jumping  up 
and  down,  accompanied  by  wild  singing  and  noise, 
but  the  coast  dances,  as  carried  out  by  the  members 
of  the  native  police  at  Port  Moresby,  by  permission 
of  the  authorities,  although  less  effective  in  point  of 
costume — for  little  dress  at  all  is  worn — have  some- 
thing of  the  orderly  and  progressive  arrangement  of 
the  ballet  of  civilisation.  On  the  day  set  apart  for 
the  dance  at  Port  Moresby,  a circle  of  native 
drummers  would  seat  themselves  on  the  ground,  and 
would  begin  their  monotonous  performance — bang, 
bang,  bang;  bang,  bang,  bang — apparently  without 
end,  and  with  a wearisomely  monotonous  rhythm. 
Suddenly,  to  the  orchestra  and  the  spectators  would 
enter  two  members  of  the  Fly  River  police  off  duty, 
carrying  a long,  thin  reed.  These  would  begin  the 
performance.  They  jumped  up  and  down  in  regular 
rhythm,  crouching  lower  and  lower  as  the  dance  pro- 
ceeded, their  movements  getting  quicker  and  quicker 

307 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS 


as  the  drums  “ gave  them  pepper.”  Then,  still  crouch- 
ing and  still  jumping  up  and  down  with  incredible 
swiftness,  they  would  back  out  and  disappear  round 
the  side  of  the  house.  This  ended  the  first  figure. 
For  the  second  figure  probably  twenty  of  the  force 
would  enter,  marching  sedately  in  Indian  file,  the 
drums  playing  a slower  rhythm.  Suddenly  the  per- 
formers would  stop,  then  they  would  turn  their  heads 
from  side  to  side,  and  begin  to  move  their  legs  slowly 
in  time  to  the  drums.  Still  wagging  their  heads, 
and  without  any  increased  motion  of  the  limbs,  they 
would  proceed  right  round  the  ring  of  spectators  and 
retire,  without  any  perceptible  quickening  of  pace.  For 
the  third  figure  they  reappeared  in  files,  moving  their 
heads,  the  limbs  still  going  in  slow  time.  They  ad- 
vanced and  retreated  to  and  from  the  spectators  several 
times,  singing  as  they  went,  and  finally  backed  out. 

We  witnessed  also  a dance  of  the  Mombare  people, 
who  are  likewise  members  of  the  native  police.  With 
the  dancers  was  one  woman.  Their  method  was  to 
jump  up  and  down,  and  thus  they  worked  slowly  round 
the  oval  enclosure  formed  by  spectators.  They  held 
themselves  erect  all  the  time,  and  their  demeanour 
was  not  serious,  the  dance  being  accompanied  by  loud 
shouting  and  great  perspiration.  During  all  these 
dances  the  Orgiasts  fell  into  a terrible  state  of  excite- 
ment, and  often  could  not  stop  dancing  until  they 
fell  quite  exhausted.  Mountain  dances  are  some- 
times accompanied  by  tragedies,  for  the  confusion  of 
the  revel  is  made  the  occasion  for  wiping  off  old 
scores,  and  a dancer  will  suddenly  fall  dead,  struck 
through  by  the  spear  of  his  enemy. 

308 


CHAPTER  XVI 

BURIAL , WITCHCRAFT,  AND  OTHER 
THEMES 

A Short-lived  Race — An  Aged  Man  a Curiosity — Burial  Customs 
— The  Chief  Mourner  painted  Black — Period  of  Mourning  brief 
except  for  the  Chief  Mourner — No  Belief  in  Natural  Death 
— Poison  always  Suspected — Religion  all  but  absent — Vague 
Belief  in  Magic — Fifi  a Form  of  Divination — How  practised — Its 
Utter  Childishness — No  Idea  of  Number — Forest  Warnings — 
“ Wada,”  another  Form  of  Sorcery — Mavai’s  Hideous  Magical 
Compounds — A People  seemingly  without  History  or  Legends 
— Pictures  understood — Fear  of  the  Stereoscope — The  “ Bau- 
bau”  or  Social  Pipe — How  Made  and  Smoked — Incidents  of 
Travel — The  Stinging  Trees — Ideas  of  Medicine — Sovereign 
Remedies — Bleeding — How  practised — Hunting — The  Corral — 
A Strange  Delicacy — Story  of  Native  Trust  in  Me — A Loan  of 
Beads — Children  and  their  Sports — Thirty  Ways  of  Cat’s- 
Cradle. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


BURIAL,  WITCHCRAFT,  AND  OTHER  THEMES 

The  Papuans  are  not  a long-lived  race.  The  mountain 
people  die  off  about  forty : at  Googooli,  high  up  on 
the  mountains,  we  saw  one  very  old  man,  who  may 
have  been  sixty  years  of  age — the  only  example  of 
longevity  that  we  came  across.  He  was  a very 
pathetic  spectacle : his  features  were  almost  gone,  the 
skin  was  terribly  shrivelled,  and  the  eyes  sunken. 
He  was  bent  almost  double,  and  had  a long  white 
beard.  His  fellow-tribesmen  regarded  him  as  a great 
curiosity,  and  brought  him  to  see  us.  Despite  the 
decrepitude  of  his  body,  however,  there  was  no 
trace  of  senility : his  senses  were  unimpaired ; and 
the  poor  old  creature  showed  great  gratitude  for  a 
gift  of  tobacco. 

Of  the  mountain  people’s  burial  customs  I have 
no  precise  knowledge,  but  at  Hanuabada  we  were 
able  to  observe  a coast  funeral.  The  dead  body  was 
wrapped  in  a net  and  lashed  to  a pole,  which  was 
borne  by  two  bearers.  To  the  funeral,  which  was 
celebrated  the  morning  after  death,  the  whole  village 
turned  out,  and  followed  the  corpse  without  any 
regard  to  precedence,  except  that  the  chief  mourner 
— in  this  case,  the  mother  — walked  immediately 
behind  the  bier.  The  chief  mourner  is  invariably 
blacked  all  over  with  charcoal,  but  the  others  wear 

31 1 p 


BURIAL  AND  WITCHCRAFT 


no  token  of  sorrow.  Just  as  the  procession  started 
the  women  set  up  a tremendous  wailing,  which  was 
continued  all  the  way  to  the  grave.  On  reaching  the 
burial-place,  which  was  some  seven  minutes’  walk 
from  the  village,  the  corpse  was  set  down,  and  the 
mother,  seating  herself  at  its  head,  encircled  it  with 
her  arms,  the  hands  being  clasped  below  the  chin, 
and  began  with  shrill  cries  to  try  to  call  her  son 
back  to  life.  For  twenty  minutes,  while  the  shallow 
grave  was  being  dug,  this  ceremony  proceeded,  while 
the  rest  of  the  mourners  sat  around.  The  corpse 
was  then  lifted  into  the  grave  without  much  rever- 
ence and  was  covered  up,  the  mourners  waiting  until 
this  was  done,  whereupon  they  walked  away  and, 
as  far  as  they  were  concerned,  the  mourning  was 
over,  and  far  from  being  a cause  of  sorrow,  it  had 
become  merely  an  interesting  topic  of  conversation. 
The  chief  mourner,  however,  if  a woman,  keeps  the 
house,  and  sees  no  one  after  the  funeral  for  a space 
that  may  extend  to  three  weeks.  It  is  indeed  very 
difficult  to  persuade  a mourner  to  leave  the  house. 
Another  method  of  disposal  of  the  dead  is  tree- 
burial.  A light  framework  of  bamboo  or  sticks  is 
laid  in  the  fork  of  a tree.  On  this  the  corpse, 

wrapped  in  bark,  is  exposed.  When  nature  has 

done  its  work  on  the  remains,  the  bones  are  after- 
wards distributed  among  the  friends  of  the  deceased. 

They  do  not  believe  in  a natural  death,  and  attri- 
bute every  decease  to  poison  in  a vague  and  general 
sort  of  way.  Belief  in  another  world  they  have 
none,  and  the  most  elementary  ideas  of  religion  do 
not  seem  to  exist.  There  is  not  even  any  definite 


312 


I. — YOUNG  NATIVES’  CURIOSITY  ABOUT  MY  CAMERA. 

2. — WOMEN  CARRIERS  ON  THE  WAY  TO  PORT  MORESBY. 


BURIAL  AND  WITCHCRAFT 


superstition,  but  only  a sort  of  vague  and  particularly 
childish  belief  in  some  kind  of  magic  under  the 
name  of  “ Fi-fi.”  This  is  a sort  of  divination,  and 
is  practised  at  night  by  a recognised  medium,  usually 
a girl,  who  is  “ Fi-fi,”  and  yet  who  is,  at  the  same 
time,  believed  to  represent  this  mysterious  power 
known  as  “Fi-fi.” 

Fi-fi  is  supposed  to  be  a spirit  always  invisible 
and  occasionally  audible.  It  is  considered  a bringer 
of  both  good  and  bad  luck,  but  although  this  is  so 
no  attempt  is  made  to  propitiate  it.  The  cult  indeed 
is  so  absurd  that  the  wonder  is  that  the  people  believe 
in  it  at  all ; yet,  although  there  is  apparently  nothing 
supernatural  on  the  face  of  it,  the  Papuans  are  willing 
to  credit  its  manifestations.  When  a tribe  wishes  to 
know  its  luck,  and  when  a hostile  attack  is  imminent, 
it  has  recourse  to  the  rites  of  Fi-fi ; these  are  always 
celebrated  at  night.  The  crowd  gathers  round  the 
fire,  and  the  girl  who  is  supposed  to  be  the  medium 
of  the  power  is  told  off  to  communicate  with  Fi-fi ; 
from  that  moment,  by  a peculiar  confusion  in  their 
minds  between  the  spirit  and  the  medium,  she  becomes 
Fi-fi  to  all  intents  and  purposes.  She  retires  to  some 
corner  near  at  hand,  where  she  is  not  seen,  and  from 
there  she  whistles  in  different  keys.  The  sound  is 
made  entirely  at  the  medium’s  discretion,  but  the 
moment  it  is  heard  the  people  exclaim  that  Fi-fi  has 
come,  and  they  judge  by  the  whistling  whether  the 
omens  are  favourable  or  not.  They  would  seem  to 
have  an  idea  of  two  Fi-fis,  for  the  girl’s  first  call 
is  two  short  notes  repeated.  No  immediate  answer 
comes,  and  the  people  round  the  fire  remark  casually  to 

3i5 


BURIAL  AND  WITCHCRAFT 


each  other  that  the  other  Fi-fi  has  not  heard,  but 
they  say,  “ Gua-fua  ” — that  is,  “ Wait.”  The  girl 
whistles  again,  and  in  a moment  or  two  answers  her- 
self; then  the  listeners  round  the  fire  exclaim,  “ Oi- 
kai-yoi,  Fi-fi-mai  ” (“You  hear,  Fi-fi  has  come”). 
Occasionally  we  have  said  to  them,  “Tell  Fi-fi  to 
speak,”  but  they  refused  point-blank;  and  when  we 
asked  them  why  they  did  not  bring  Fi-fi,  they  said 
they  could  not.  The  priestess  varied  her  whistle,  and 
then  interpreted  her  own  messages.  Once  a woman 
is  chosen  to  communicate  with  Fi-fi,  she  retains  the 
office  for  life.  This  form  of  divination  occurred  most 
frequently  at  Waley. 

The  priestess  is  not  above  the  Delphic  trick  of 
framing  her  oracles  to  suit  political  necessity  or 
her  own  inclinations  and  likings.  One  would  think 
that  people  of  such  general  common  sense  as  the 
Papuans  would  see  the  possibility  of  deception,  but 
they  have  implicit  faith  in  Fi-fi’ s manifestations. 

Certain  insects,  I noted,  were  also  regarded  as 
“ Fi-fi.”  When  a particular  species  of  fire-fly  entered 
the  house  at  night  the  natives  immediately  predicted 
bad  luck,  or  impending  attack  and  extermination  by 
hostile  tribes.  This  failure  of  intelligence  at  one  point 
is  paralleled  by  their  inability  to  grasp  the  simplest  idea 
of  number.  Further  than  three  they  cannot  count, 
although  we  often  tried,  by  means  of  their  ten  fingers, 
to  instil  some  notions  of  a higher  calculus  into  them. 

On  the  march  we  observed  the  existence  of  a 
curious  system  of  warnings.  Now  and  then  a green 
bough,  newly  broken  off,  would  be  found  lying  in  the 
path,  and  the  sight  of  this  almost  drives  the  natives  out 

316 


BURIAL  AND  WITCHCRAFT 


of  their  wits ; for  it  is  the  recognised  symbol  that 
some  one  has  been  there  who  does  not  want  you  to 
pass.  It  has  a correlative  in  a friendly  symbol,  which 
is  also  a broken  bough,  but  in  this  instance  it  is  not 
entirely  severed  from  the  tree. 

Another  superstition  is  “Wada,”  which,  as  far  as 
one  can  ascertain,  seems  to  be  a belief  in  an  invisible 
man  who  stands  near  a tree,  but  is  so  like  it  that  he 
cannot  be  seen.  As  you  go  through  the  forest  “Wada  ” 
may  touch  you,  and  then  you  are  doomed.  After  this 
there  is  nothing  for  you  to  do  but  go  home  and  die  ; 
and  so  great  is  the  power  of  suggestion,  that  a person 
who  believes  he  has  been  touched  by  “Wada”  gene- 
rally does  die. 

Mavai  practised  “ Wada,”  but  it  took  a somewhat 
pharmaceutical  form  with  him.  He  made  an  abomin- 
able mixture  of  rotten  bananas,  and  all  sorts  of 
decomposing  matter.  This  he  kept  in  his  house  and 
gave  to  persons  he  wanted  to  be  rid  of,  generally 
without  any  evil  effect,  but  that  never  shook  his  belief 
in  the  efficacy  of  his  decoctions.  It  was  delightfully 
comical  to  see  the  seriousness  with  which  he  sat  com- 
pounding his  horrid  messes,  and  telling  you  of  their 
dire  results.  It  may  be  wondered  how  ever  he  got 
the  dread  substance  administered  ; but  then,  of  course, 
Mavai  was  all-powerful,  and  the  person  who  refused 
to  take  his  “Wada”  drugs  would  probably  have  en- 
countered “Wada” — a sure  and  certain  “Wada” — 
in  the  person  of  Mavai  himself. 

There  was  also  some  confusion  of  “ W~ada”  with  a 
stone  or  a stick,  and  therein  probably  one  might  find 
the  truth  about  the  real  deadliness  of  the  charm. 

3l7 


BURIAL  AND  WITCHCRAFT 


The  Papuans  are  entirely  without  history  as  a 
people,  and  of  personal  tradition  they  have  only  the 
merest  scraps.  At  Port  Moresby  they  had  a legend 
of  an  eclipse,  and  referred  to  it  as  “ Labi  labi  ” (that  is, 
“night”).  They  have  no  tales  of  gods  or  heroes,  and 
their  chief  interest  is  the  question,  “ Where  are  you 
going?”  and  “What  are  you  doing?” 

They  were  very  keen  to  see  our  photographs,  and 
had  no  difficulty  in  understanding  a picture : therein 
they  differed  greatly  from  the  debased  Australian 
aborigines,  who  could  never  grasp  the  graphic  symbol, 
and  in  the  famous  instance,  when  shown  a picture  of 
Queen  Victoria,  said  it  was  a ship.  They  picked  out 
their  friends’  photographs  at  once,  and  recognised 
them  with  exclamations  of  delight.  For  one  of  our 
men,  however,  our  stereoscope  proved  too  much,  as 
the  relief  of  the  figures  had  probably  been  too  realistic  ; 
and  on  being  invited  to  look  at  a group  of  our  re- 
tainers, he  no  sooner  put  his  eyes  to  the  glass  than  he 
howled  and  nearly  dropped  the  instrument.  He  ran 
away,  saying,  “ Mookau  meego  ” (“Man  lives  there”), 
and  could  not  be  persuaded  to  look  again. 

I hope  that  during  my  next  journey  I may  be  able 
to  pierce  more  deeply  into  the  psychology  of  the 
Papuans,  and  it  may  be  that,  with  greater  familiarity, 
they  will  communicate  more  of  what  they  know  ; for  it 
appears  improbable  that  they  should  be  as  destitute  as 
they  seem  of  legend  or  myth. 

Over  the  “Bau-bau,”  or  social  pipe,  I trust  there 
may  be  some  discoveries  in  store  for  me.  The  Papuan 
pipe  is  itself  a most  interesting  instrument,  not  only 
in  its  everyday  use,  but  in  its  construction  and  in 


SMOKING  THE  BAU-BAU. 

This  curious  pipe  is  made  of  a length  of  bamboo  closed  at  each  end.  Into  a 
small  hole  at  one  end  is  inserted  a small  green  leaf  rolled  like  a grocer’s 
paper  bag.  In  this  the  lighted  tobacco  is  placed.  The  smoker  then  reverses 
the  tube,  and  sucks  in  the  smoke  until  the  bamboo  is  tilled.  He  now  takes 
out  the  tobacco  and  inhales  a long  whiff.  The  operation  is  repeated  as  long 
as  the  tobacco  lasts. 


BURIAL  AND  WITCHCRAFT 


the  method  of  smoking.  It  is  made  of  one  joint  of 
bamboo,  closed  at  both  ends  by  the  natural  section  of 
the  bamboo.  In  the  side  of  the  cylinder  near  one  end 
they  drill  a hole  by  applying  a piece  of  hard  wood 
made  red-hot.  They  press  the  red-hot  wood  to  the 
bamboo,  and  blow  it  to  incandescence,  repeating  the 
operation  until  a hole  is  pierced.  They  next  knock  a 
hole  in  the  opposite  end  of  the  bamboo,  so  as  to  admit 
a current  of  air.  The  red-hot  wood  is  now  applied 
again  to  the  original  hole,  and  they  blow  through  the 
hole  knocked  in  the  opposite  end  until  the  small  hole 
in  the  side  is  gradually  enlarged.  The  “Bau-bau”  is 
now  complete,  except  for  its  ornamentation.  Elabo- 
rate patterns  are  scratched  on  the  hard  enamel  of  the 
bamboo  with  glass,  a knife,  a stone,  or  red-hot  wood, 
and  the  speed  with  which  this  decoration  is  accom- 
plished is  extraordinary. 

In  the  accompanying  illustration  I show  some  of 
the  prevailing  patterns.  On  the  march  our  men  would 
cut  a bamboo,  and  on  reaching  camp  would  borrow  some 
suitable  tool  from  us,  and  make  a pipe  in  a very  short 
time.  They  were  sufficiently  accomplished  smokers, 
however,  to  like  an  old  “Bau-bau”  best,  and  gave  the 
reason,  which  will  be  appreciated  by  every  smoker, 
that  tobacco  is  not  good  in  a new  one. 

The  method  of  smoking  is  elaborate.  They  roll 
a leaf  into  a little  horn,  and  insert  it  in  the  smaller 
hole  on  the  side  of  the  “ Bau-bau,”  within  this  leaf 
is  placed  the  charge  of  tobacco  which  they  light,  and 
then  placing  their  lips  to  the  end  hole  they  draw. 
The  little  horn,  or  cigarette  as  one  may  call  it,  is  now 
removed  from  the  hole  in  the  side,  and  if  the  pipe  is 

321 


BURIAL  AND  WITCHCRAFT 


new  they  blow  away  the  first  charge  of  smoke,  by 
placing  their  lips  to  the  hole  in  which  the  cigarette 
was  originally  inserted.  Again  the  cigarette  is  placed 
in  the  small  hole,  and  the  pipe  is  drawn  from  the  end 
hole.  This  time  the  smoke  is  intended  to  be  used, 
so  the  cigarette  is  removed  from  the  small  hole,  and 
the  smoker  applying  his  lips  thereto  inhales  the  whole 
charge.  Again  the  cigarette  is  removed,  and  the  pipe 
is  filled  by  a long  pull  at  the  end  hole,  but  this  time 
the  smoker  does  not  inhale  the  charge  himself,  but 
removes  the  cigarette  and  politely  hands  the  charged 
pipe  to  his  neighbour,  who  punctiliously  rubs  the 
mouthpiece,  and  enjoys  the  long  whiff.  Very  often 
there  is  one  drawer  for  an  entire  party,  whose  duty  it 
is  to  fill  the  pipe  with  smoke,  and  pass  it  so  filled  to 
each  of  his  companions  in  turn. 

They  usually  sit  in  a circle  for  these  smoking 
parties ; and  in  camp  the  “ Bau-bau  ” is  continually 
used.  They  grow  their  own  tobacco,  which  is  very 
rank,  and  not  good  smoking  at  all.  In  fact,  the 
natives  themselves  cannot  inhale  much,  as  it  makes 
them  giddy ; and  they  are  not  infrequently  seized  with 
severe  fits  of  coughing  when  the  fumes  have  proved 
particularly  suffocating. 

The  supply  of  tobacco  is  carried  in  the  armlet  or 
behind  the  ear — this  last  method  being  not  unknown 
to  the  festive  Cockney,  who,  on  Bank  Holiday,  is 
seldom  complete  without  a cigarette  so  worn. 

The  pipe  at  the  end  of  the  day’s  march  was  invari- 
ably well  earned,  for  the  heartiness  and  endurance  of 
my  carriers  were  almost  incredible.  On  one  occasion 
I despatched  a party  to  one  of  my  camps,  thirty  miles 

32? 


BURIAL  AND  WITCHCRAFT 


distant,  through  an  almost  inaccessible  mountain 
region.  They  left  at  eight  o’clock  in  the  morning, 
and  came  into  camp  again  at  five  in  the  afternoon 
of  the  following  day,  having  accomplished  the  whole 
journey  of  sixty  miles,  and  the  latter  half  while  they 
were  burdened  with  their  loads  of  rice,  tinned  provi- 
sions, tobacco  and  hardware,  and  all  the  other  mis- 
cellaneous articles  known  as  “trade.”  The  women’s 
loads  weighed  about  50  lbs.,  the  men’s  somewhat  less, 
for  the  women  are  the  great  burden-bearers  in  New 
Guinea. 

The  difficulties  of  our  march  were  heightened  by 
certain  natural  features,  particularly  the  stinging- trees, 
which  occurred  close  to  Madui.  The  tree  in  shape, 
size,  and  foliage  resembles  a sycamore,  and  has  a 
leaf  of  which  the  under  side  is  extremely  rough  and 
covered  with  spines.  These  possess  a stinging  power 
like  that  of  the  nettle,  only  much  worse,  and  the 
irritation  lasts  far  longer.  The  slightest  touch  is 
sufficient  to  wound.  First  a white  blister  appears, 
then  redness,  covering  about  a square  inch  around 
each  pustule ; rubbing  aggravates  the  irritation,  which 
shortly  becomes  maddening.  The  pain  is  not  allayed 
for  at  least  twelve  hours  ; and  I have  never  observed 
any  natural  antidote  growing  in  the  vicinity  of  this 
stinging-tree,  as  the  dock-leaf  grows  near  the  nettle. 
Needless  to  say,  the  natives  take  the  utmost  care  to 
give  these  trees  a wide  berth. 

A smaller  stinging-plant,  resembling  our  nettle, 
only  larger,  with  a rough  under  side  of  pale  pea-green, 
is  also  found  at  intervals  in  the  forest ; both  sides  of 
the  leaf  possess  the  power  of  irritation.  The  natives 

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BURIAL  AND  WITCHCRAFT 


use  it  as  a universal  specific  for  all  ailments.  As  soon 
as  they  come  on  a clump  of  this  plant  the  women 
discard  their  loads  and  gather  bundles  of  the  leaves, 
which  they  carefully  preserve  for  future  requirements. 
It  is  also  applied  probably  for  the  sheer  pleasure  of 
it  when  they  have  no  actual  disorder,  and  it  is  quite 
common  for  them  to  rub  their  bodies  lightly  with 
the  leaves.  This  causes  violent  irritation,  followed 
by  a feeling  of  pleasant  numbness,  like  that  which 
results  from  the  application  of  menthol.  For  a 
mosquito  bite  this  is  a most  admirable  remedy,  since 
the  irritation  of  the  bite  is  allayed  and  goes  down 
long  before  the  irritation  of  the  leaf  has  passed.  It 
is  a curious  example  of  the  old  medical  practice  of 
counter-irritation.  Although  we  were  glad  to  resort 
to  it  for  mosquito  bites,  no  European  would  without 
that  cause  risk  the  irritation  for  the  sake  of  possible 
future  benefits. 

While  on  the  subject  of  Papuan  sovereign  re- 
medies, I may  mention  a curious  form  of  bleeding 
which  is  in  use  among  the  tribes,  especially  among 
the  younger  men.  The  bleeding  is  performed  by 
two  persons,  who  sit  opposite  to  each  other.  The 
operator  takes  a small  drill,  or  rather  probe  of 
cassowary  bone  brought  to  an  extremely  fine  point, 
and  this  is  attached  to  the  string  of  a tiny  bow 
about  4 inches  long.  Holding  the  bow  as  if  he  were 
going  to  shoot,  the  operator  aims  the  little  probe  at 
the  patient’s  forehead,  draws  the  bow  slowly,  and  lets 
the  string  go  ; the  probe  is  thus  brought  into  sharp 
contact  with  the  patient’s  skin,  and  the  operation 
of  drawing  the  bow  and  letting  fly  the  arrow  is 

324 


BURIAL  AND  WITCHCRAFT 


repeated  again  and  again  until  blood  is  drawn.  It 
should  be  remembered  that  the  probe  or  arrow  is 
always  attached  to  the  string  and  never  escapes.  The 
patient  now  leans  forward,  and  the  blood  is  allowed 
to  flow  profusely  on  to  the  ground. 

I have  often  seen  as  much  as  half  a pint  allowed 
to  escape.  When  faintness  supervenes  the  wound 
is  staunched  with  ashes  or  any  convenient  styptic, 
and  the  patient  sits  up.  If  the  ashes  fail  to  act, 
cautery  with  a hot  cinder  is  practised.  Headache  is 
the  usual  trouble  for  which  this  remedy  is  applied, 
and  this  frequency  of  bleeding  may  be  the  reason 
why  there  is  no  heart  disease  or  sudden  death  among 
the  natives.  This  may  probably  lend  colour  to  the 
theory  of  some  physicians,  that  the  increase  of  heart 
disease  and  sudden  death  in  civilised  nations  is  due 
to  the  entire  abandonment  of  bleeding,  once  certainly 
carried  to  excess. 

Although  the  women  do  all  the  hard  work  of  the 
house  and  in  the  field,  they  are  nevertheless  regarded 
with  affection.  It  is  erroneous  to  suppose  that  they 
are  compelled  to  be  burden-bearers  because  they  are 
lightly  esteemed.  As  far  as  my  own  observation 
goes,  the  men  are  left  free  of  loads,  or  are  given 
lighter  loads,  in  order  that  they  may  be  ready  to  pro- 
tect the  women  from  the  sudden  raids  of  other  tribes. 
Their  gardens  are  often  a considerable  distance  from 
the  village,  and  the  women  never  go  to  gather  yams 
or  taro,  or  to  till  their  patches,  without  an  escort  of 
young  men  as  protectors. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  men  are  not  idle,  but 
perform  their  part  in  the  economic  system  by 

325 


BURIAL  AND  WITCHCRAFT 


acting  as  hunters.  Their  chief  game  is  the  pig,  the 
cassowary,  and  the  wallaby.  They  hunt  this  quarry 
with  spears,  and  drive  the  game  into  nets  which 
have  been  spread  between  the  trees  and  posts  in 
the  forest  over  a considerable  area,  forming  a corral, 
approached  by  a long  decoy,  two  long  lines  of  nets 
gradually  converging.  When  the  nets  have  been  set 
the  drive  commences.  The  beaters  extend  themselves 
for  a considerable  distance,  and,  with  the  assistance 
of  dogs,  gradually  force  the  game  towards  the  nets. 
The  game  is  plentiful,  and  as  it  closes  towards  the 
corral,  birds  and  beasts  are  forced  into  the  centre  in 
crowds.  At  length  the  hunters  close  round  the 
opening,  a final  rush  is  made,  and  the  victims  are 
despatched  with  spears.  These  hunting  bouts  occur 
only  at  long  intervals,  and  on  the  lower  slopes  of  the 
mountains.  After  a successful  drive  there  is  a great 
jollification.  Fires  are  built  in  the  camp,  the  game 
is  roasted,  and  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time 
every  portion  has  disappeared,  and  the  people  are 
lying  around  gorged. 

In  one  particular  delicacy  favoured  by  the  Papuans 
I was,  as  an  entomologist,  very  much  interested.  The 
natives  are  exceedingly  fond  of  the  larvae  of  a large 
tropical  beetle,  one  of  the  Passalidie,  which  are  found 
in  decayed  tree  trunks.  Whenever  the  natives  noticed 
the  presence  of  the  borings  made  by  the  larvae,  they 
seized  a native  instrument,  probably  one  of  their  stone 
axes,  dug  out  the  dainty,  which  is  about  five  inches 
long,  and  ate  it  raw.  Should  a fire  be  handy,  they 
would  sometimes  throw  the  larvae  into  the  ashes,  give 
it  a turn  or  two,  and  then  enjoy  it ; the  flavour  is 

326 


A PAPUAN  HUNT. 

The  natives  drive  their  game,  chiefly  the  pig,  the  cassowary,  and  the  wallaby  (a  small  kangaroo)  into  a corral,  and  then  despatch 

the  quarry  with  spears. 


BURIAL  AND  WITCHCRAFT 


said  to  resemble  that  of  a lemon.  I could  never, 
however,  bring  myself  to  try  it. 

The  Papuans  are  a jovial,  light-hearted  people, 
and  when  a stranger  has  once  won  their  confidence 
they  are  hospitable  and  friendly.  Their  trust  when 
once  gained  will  stand  even  rather  severe  tests,  as  I 
found  to  my  great  satisfaction  and  advantage  after 
a stay  of  some  months  at  Mount  Kebea.  I was 
anxious  to  push  farther  into  the  interior,  but  found 
myself  absolutely  without  beads,  which  are  the  journey 
money  of  the  explorer.  It  would  have  delayed  me 
too  long  to  have  waited  for  the  return  of  my  mes- 
sengers, who  had  been  sent  to  the  coast  for  a further 
supply,  so  I hit  upon  the  expedient  of  trying  how  far 
my  credit  with  the  natives  would  go.  I called  the 
tribe — men,  women,  and  children — together,  and  in  a 
lengthy  harangue  I explained  the  situation  to  them ; 
finally  asking  them  if  they  would  lend  me  their  beads, 
which  every  one  of  them  wore  on  his  or  her  person 
in  considerable  profusion,  promising  them  that  on  my 
return  I would  pay  them  double  the  quantity.  This 
tribe,  be  it  noted,  was  not  to  accompany  me  farther, 
and  the  beads  would  have  to  be  given  to  other  bearers, 
whom  I should  engage  as  I proceeded.  These  orna- 
mentations are  to  the  Papuans  as  precious  as  her 
pearls  are  to  a grande  dame , but,  nevertheless,  every 
man,  woman,  and  child  immediately  consented  to  the 
loan.  This  appreciation  of  the  idea  of  credit — one 
might  almost  say  of  banking — denotes  a considerable 
receptivity  of  mind,  and  shows  that  the  Papuan  cannot 
be  inaccessible  to  civilisation. 

I cannot  pass  from  the  subject  of  the  Papuan  at 

329 


BURIAL  AND  WITCHCRAFT 


home  without  saying  something  about  his  children, 
who  are  the  merriest  little  creatures  imaginable. 
Without  being  very  demonstrative,  the  parents  like 
them  well  enough,  and  the  child  is  not  at  all  hardly 
used — although,  be  it  remembered,  the  family  pig  has 
a deeper  place  in  the  adults’  affections.  In  times  of 
stress  it  is  to  be  feared  it  is  the  pig  that  is  first 
considered,  probably  because  it  is  so  important  an 
article  of  diet.  The  devotion  to  this  animal  goes 
far  further  than  that  of  Pat,  for  it  is  not  unusual 
to  see  a Papuan  woman  acting  as  foster-mother  to 
a young  pig. 

But  to  return  to  the  children ; up  to  the  age  of 
seven  their  life  is  one  long  holiday,  and  they  very 
early  begin  to  practise  the  use  of  weapons.  Spear- 
throwing is  their  favourite  sport ; for  this  they  use 
a long  stick  of  grass  with  an  enlarged  root.  They 
pull  off  all  the  leaves  until  the  shaft  is  clean,  and 
the  root  is  allowed  to  remain  to  represent  the  heavy 
head  of  the  spear.  Their  targets  are  each  other,  and 
at  a very  early  age  they  have  acquired  a marvellous 
dexterity,  hitting  each  other  with  nicest  accuracy  even 
at  40  feet  range.  Every  hit  is  registered  with  a de- 
lighted jump  and  a howl.  The  amount  of  cleverness 
and  dexterity  required  for  this  spear  practice  was 
realised  by  my  son,  who  tried  it,  and  found  that  not 
only  could  he  not  hit,  but  he  could  not  make  the 
spear  carry.  Very  small  girls  play  also  at  spear- 
throwing, but  they  give  it  up  early. 

We  were  very  much  amused  to  find  the  presence 
of  “ Cat’s  Cradle  ” ; we  had  thought  to  amuse  the 
little  ones  by  teaching  them  this  game,  but  we  found 

330 


BURIAL  AND  WITCHCRAFT 


that  they  were  already  more  than  our  masters  therein ; 
for  they  no  sooner  saw  what  we  were  after  than  they 
let  us  know  that  they  were  well  acquainted  with  it, 
and  whereas  we  had  just  the  old  stereotyped  process 
to  give  them,  they  showed  us  thirty  different  ways. 
They  did  not,  however,  play  in  pairs  as  we  do,  the 
players  taking  the  string  from  each  other’s  hands 
in  turn,  but  each  child  sits  by  himself  or  herself  and 
works  out  the  pattern.  It  is  really  amusing  to  see 
how  they  effect  the  different  changes  and  the  regular 
routine  of  forms  by  the  movement  of  the  fingers  alone, 
without  the  aid  of  another  pair  of  hands. 

The  dogs  at  Epa  and  Port  Moresby  were  highly 
favoured  animals.  Not  only  had  they  the  run  of  the 
house,  but  each  house  had  an  entrance  sacred  to  the 
dog.  To  this  access  was  given  by  special  dog-ladders 
9 inches  wide,  with  the  rungs  quite  a foot  apart,  up 
and  down  which  the  animals  ran  like  monkeys. 


33i 


CHAPTER  XVII 


A NOTE  ON  BRITISH  TRADE  PROSPECTS 
IN  NEW  GUINEA 

Sandal-wood — The  Sea-Slug — Copra  and  Cocoa-Nut — Coffee — 
Cocoa — Chillies — Rubber — Stock  - Raising  — Gold — Tobacco — 
Imports — German  Enterprise — Our  Lost  Coaling  Station. 


CHAPTER  XVII 


A NOTE  ON  BRITISH  TRADE  PROSPECTS  IN 
NEW  GUINEA 

The  intelligent  observer  of  New  Guinea  cannot  fail  to 
recognise  that  the  country  presents  a vast  unopened 
field  for  the  development  of  British  trade.  Many 
sources  of  wealth  are  as  yet  absolutely  untouched, 
but  experiments  that  have  recently  been  made  in 
coffee,  tobacco,  cocoa,  and  rubber,  yield  the  richest 
promise.  The  geographical  configuration  of  the  coast 
will  greatly  aid  the  enterprising  trader,  for  many 
centres  of  industry  can  easily  be  approached  by  water 
at  such  inlets  as  Hall  Sound,  and  the  cost  of  trans- 
port from  the  interior  would  consequently  be  a mere 
bagatelle. 

One  of  the  chief  industries  is  sandal-wood  cutting. 
The  sandal-wood  is  found  in  arid,  elevated  regions, 
and  the  particular  spots  where  the  trees  grow  in  any 
quantity  are  known  to  the  trade  as  patches.  These 
patches,  however,  do  not  signify  that  the  trees  grow 
closely  together.  One  tree  might  be  found  here  and 
another  might  not  occur  for  a hundred  yards  or  so ; 
but  still  there  is  an  area  of  sandal  - wood  growth 
sufficiently  definite  to  justify  the  title  “ patch.”  For 
any  one  who  understands  the  intricacies  of  the  situa- 
tion, and  the  proper  method  of  going  to  work,  there 
is  something  to  be  made ; but  at  present  the  develop- 

335 


BRITISH  TRADE  PROSPECTS 


ment  of  the  trade  is  beset  with  difficulties  which  can 
only  be  surmounted  by  one  who  is  thoroughly  familiar 
with  the  country  and  the  conditions. 

A rich  source  of  income,  still  only  little  worked, 
is  the  trade  in  beche-de-mer,  the  sea-slug,  which  is  an 
indispensable  article  of  seasoning  in  every  Chinese 
kitchen.  This  commands  /70  a ton  in  the  China 
market,  and  the  variety  known  as  the  “ black  fish  ” 
fetches  as  much  as  ^100  a ton.  It  is  used  for 
thickening  gravies  and  soups.  These  molluscs  are 
about  9 inches  long  and  3 inches  thick,  and  are  to 
be  found  adhering  to  the  corals.  The  Papuans  dive 
for  them,  and  when  they  have  secured  them  they  are 
split  open,  dried  in  the  sun,  and  packed  in  boxes. 
This  trade  could  be  made  very  profitable  to  any 
capable  operator  who  cared  to  embark  a moderate 
capital  in  its  development.  Divers  can  be  had  for 
a little  tobacco  or  a few  shells,  a knife  or  an  axe, 
but  the  chief  expense  is  the  preparation  and  pre- 
servation for  the  market.  As  a matter  of  fact,  an 
enterprising  Brisbane  firm  has  lately  introduced  the 
tinning  system  for  this  mollusc,  but  the  China  market 
is  supplied  with  the  dried  commodity  untinned. 

There  is  also  much  to  be  done  in  copra  and  in 
cocoa-nut  products  generally.  Large  cocoa-nut  planta- 
tions pay  well,  as  every  part  of  the  tree  can  be 
utilised,  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  a great  deal  of 
business  can  be  done  with  Java,  which  at  present 
cannot  produce  enough  cocoa-nut  fibre  for  its  mat 
industry,  and  actually  brings  consignments  all  the 
way  from  Ceylon.  The  copra  is  in  great  demand 
amongst  soap-makers,  and  one  large  firm  has  pros- 

336 


HAULING  UP  A LOG  FOR  BUILDING  THE  CAMP  AT  DIN  AW  A 


BRITISH  TRADE  PROSPECTS 

pectors  at  work  in  the  interior  of  the  islands  with 
a view  to  increasing  the  supply.  To  my  own  know- 
ledge efforts  are  being  made  to  extend  this  trade,  by 
several  Europeans,  east  and  west  of  Hall  Sound,  but 
there  is  plenty  of  room  for  others  without  in  any  way 
damaging  the  prosperity  of  the  industry. 

New  Guinea  is  favourable  to  the  production  of 
coffee,  although  the  plant  is  not  indigenous  to  the 
island.  A fine  quality  is  grown  at  AVariratti.  The 
plantations  are  flourishing,  but  here  again  the  enter- 
prise is  still  young.  The  trade  is  so  new  that  the 
experimental  stage  is  hardly  passed.  It  cannot  be 
doubted  that  Australia  offers  a vast  and  lucrative 
market  to  the  future  coffee  grower  of  New  Guinea. 

Cocoa  and  chillies  thrive  in  the  Mekeo  region,  and 
this  district  is  also  very  rich  in  fruit.  The  Govern- 
ment at  Port  Moresby  often  sends  down  a sailing  vessel 
to  bring  back  large  consignments  of  fruit  for  the  con- 
victs in  Port  Moresby  jail.  The  fruit-farmer  might 
find  in  the  Mekeo  region  a richer  California. 

In  about  the  same  condition  as  the  coffee  is  the 
rubber  trade.  Trees  are  found  throughout  the  pos- 
session, and  the  natives  have  some  understanding  of 
the  method  of  collecting  the  sap.  Their  operations 
are,  however,  very  crude  and  rough.  I question 
whether  the  New  Guinea  rubber  would  ever  rival 
in  excellence  the  South  American  variety  ( hevea 
Braziliensis),  which  is  undoubtedly  the  finest  in  the 
market,  although  Ceylon  is  just  commencing  to  send 
rubber  which  may  run  it  hard. 

To  the  stock-raiser  New  Guinea  offers  a tempting 
field.  At  the  Mission  of  the  Sacred  Heart  on  Yule 

339 


BRITISH  TRADE  PROSPECTS 

Island  I saw  remarkably  fine  cattle — cows  and  oxen — 
which  had  doubtless  been  introduced  from  Australia. 
Not  only  the  headquarters  of  the  Mission,  but  the  out- 
lying stations,  were  plentifully  supplied  with  milk  and 
butter,  and,  at  the  time  I was  there,  they  hoped  to  be 
in  a position  to  kill  a beast  a week,  an  important  con- 
sideration, for  fresh  meat  is  valuable  in  New  Guinea. 
I did  not  see  sheep  in  New  Guinea  at  all,  but  goats 
were  met  with  at  Hall  Sound,  although  they  are  not 
raised  in  any  great  numbers.  On  Yule  Island  the 
pasturage  is  splendid,  and  drought,  that  terror  of  the 
Australian  squatter,  is  by  no  means  frequent. 

Turning  to  the  mineral  wealth,  for  the  past  five 
years  gold  workings  have  been  carried  on  at  the  Yodda 
Fields,  on  the  Mombare  River,  in  the  north-east  por- 
tion of  the  island.  The  gold  is  alluvial.  Although  I 
cannot  give  the  exact  figures  of  the  output,  some  idea 
of  the  productiveness  of  the  region  may  be  obtained 
from  the  fact  that,  for  the  last  five  years,  150  miners 
have  been  able  to  live  on  these  fields.  When  it  is 
remembered  that  the  price  of  provisions  at  the  Yodda 
Camp  is  prohibitive,  it  is  not  an  extravagant  assump- 
tion to  compute  that  each  man  must  be  turning  out  at 
least  three  ounces  of  gold  per  week  to  make  it  worth 
his  while  to  remain.  There  are  other  workings  in  the 
Woodlark  Islands,  and  there  are  certainly  evidences 
of  gold  everywhere  in  the  streams  of  New  Guinea.  It 
does  not  seem  likely  that  the  miners  are  turning  their 
earnings  to  the  best  account  at  the  present  time.  The 
local  stores,  of  course,  consume  a great  deal  of  their 
dust,  and  when  a man  has  got  a fair  pile  together  he 
not  infrequently  goes  down  to  Samarai,  and  has  what 

340 


BRITISH  TRADE  PROSPECTS 


he  calls  “ a good  time,”  returning  with  empty  pockets 
to  begin  his  labour  over  again.  I believe  the  Govern- 
ment is  now  making  a road  to  the  Yodda  Fields,  and 
when  this  is  completed,  the  longer  route  will  be  aban- 
doned, and  provisions  on  the  fields  will  be  cheaper. 

As  regards  imports  for  commerce  with  the  natives, 
the  chief  desiderata  are  the  articles  technically  known 
as  “trade,”  with  which  the  labour  to  be  used  for  de- 
veloping the  exports  is  remunerated.  The  native 
generally  desires  to  receive  from  the  white  man 
knives,  axes,  tobacco,  Jews’  harps,  beads,  dogs’ 
teeth,  and  red  calico ; but  it  is  to  the  exports  that 
the  enterprising  trader  has  to  look  in  the  future. 

The  finest  field  for  enterprise  in  New  Guinea — 
and  one  which  I have  therefore  left  to  the  last 
to  be  dealt  with — is  tobacco.  The  district  of  Mekeo 
produces  a magnificent  leaf,  of  which  the  seed 
has  been  imported  from  Cuba.  The  syndicate  that 
imported  the  leaf  applied  to  the  Government  for 
100,000  acres  of  land  in  the  central  division  of  British 
New  Guinea,  but  this  request  was  opposed  by  the 
New  South  Wales  Government,  without  reason  vouch- 
safed to  the  Government  of  the  possession,  whose 
officials  in  a recent  report  described  this  action  as  “ a 
very  serious  blow  to  the  immediate  development  of 
the  country  by  Australian  capitalists  of  high  standing.” 
The  same  report,  while  deploring  this  misfortune, 
remarks  that  the  tobacco  should  do  very  well  if  the 
leaf  is  properly  treated  for  the  market,  as  the  soil 
appears  to  be  very  rich.  Very  different  was  the  action 
of  the  German  authorities  in  the  Kaiser’s  New 
Guinea  possessions.  With  their  usual  indefatig- 

34i 


BRITISH  TRADE  PROSPECTS 


able  enterprise,  the  Teutons  have  financed  a large 
tobacco  undertaking,  and  are  exporting  the  leaf  in 
great  quantities.  Their  syndicate  has  so  far  intro- 
duced methods  of  civilised  trade  that  they  have  struck 
and  issued  their  own  coinage  (which  bears  the  image 
of  a bird  of  paradise),  and  their  five-mark,  two-mark, 
and  one-mark  pieces  are  accepted  by  the  natives 
instead  of  trade.  These  pieces  are,  of  course,  spent 
by  the  natives  in  the  German  stores.  Not  without 
reason  did  the  Prince  of  Wales  advise  Great  Britain  to 
wake  up. 

With  all  these  extraordinary  opportunities,  it  is  a 
curious  fact  that,  as  regards  shipping,  the  island  is  in 
a worse  position  for  trade  than  it  was  twenty  years 
ago.  Even  as  recently  as  1902,  the  Moresby  was 
calling  every  five  weeks  at  Port  Moresby,  but  now  her 
route  has  been  changed,  and  she  sails  from  Sydney  to 
Singapore,  calling  at  Port  Moresby  only  once  every 
two  and  a half  months.  In  the  interval  goods  and 
mails  are  carried  in  an  erratic  manner  by  a little 
steamer  called  the  Pctrua,  by  the  Merrie  England  (a 
Government  survey  boat),  or  by  the  St.  Andrew , the 
Sacred  Heart  Mission  boat.  Two  small  sailing  vessels, 
it  is  true,  sail  between  Cook  Town  and  Samarai,  but 
this  does  not  improve  the  communication  with  Port 
Moresby,  the  seat  of  Government,  as  these  vessels 
make  no  call  there.  It  is  almost  incredible  that  the 
second  largest  island  in  the  world — the  “ Pearl  of  the 
East,”  probably  the  richest  region  in  proportion  to  its 
size  that  Great  Britain  has  the  option  of  developing — 
is  thus  left  hermit-like  in  the  midst  of  the  eastern 
seas.  It  is  the  more  surprising  when  it  is  remembered 

342 


BRITISH  TRADE  PROSPECTS 


that  New  Guinea  lies  directly  on  the  trade  route  be- 
tween Sydney  and  the  great  commercial  centres  of 
China  and  Japan.  We  might  have  had  a magnificent 
coaling  station  on  the  east  coast  of  the  island,  in 
the  Dampier  Strait,  but  for  the  action  of  Lord  Derby, 
when  he  permitted  the  Germans  to  extend  their 
possessions  so  as  to  occupy  almost  a quarter  of 
the  eastern  peninsula  of  the  island.  As  matters 
stand  now,  a coaling  station  could  only  be  estab- 
lished at  such  a point  on  the  south-eastern  coast 
that  vessels  coming  and  going  from  Sydney  would 
have  to  double  the  south-east  cape,  thus  making  an 
awkward  and  almost  impossible  dbtour  in  these  days 
when  time  is  more  than  ever  the  essence  of  every  ship- 
ping contract. 


343 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

NOTES  ON  SOME  BIRDS  OF  NEW  GUINEA 

The  Birds  of  Paradise — Remarkable  Species  observed — Native 
Names  — Play-Places  — Curious  Habits — The  Bower  - Bird  : 
Artist,  Architect,  and  Gardener. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


NOTES  ON  SOME  BIRDS  OF  NEW  GUINEA 


New  Guinea  is  remarkable  for  its  paucity  of  mammals 
and  its  richness  in  birds.  As  we  have  already  noted, 
at  least  770  different  species  of  birds  are  known,  and 
to  these  doubtless  many  more  will  be  added  as  the 
explorer  ventures  farther  into  the  interior.  The  chief 
haunts  of  the  blue  bird-of-paradise,  the  Parcidisornis 
Rudolphi,  are  in  Central  British  New  Guinea,  at  an 


altitude  of  from  4000  to  6000  feet.  There  are  about 
a dozen  species  of  the  bird-of-paradise,  and  at  Mafulu 

we  obtained  the  following,  of  which 
possible,  the  native  name  : — 

I give,  where 

Lophorina  atra  .... 

Wagoda. 

Epimachus  magnus 

Yawvee. 

Astrapia  stephaniae 

Beebee. 

Parotia  Lawsii  .... 

Aliga. 

Diphyllodis  speciosa 
Ptiloris  magnifica 

Kellolo. 

Besides  these  we  found  two  species 

of  bower-bird — 

Amblyornis  subalaris. 
Laurea  lori. 

The  limit  of  the  king  bird  ( Cicinnurus  Regius) 
was  at  an  elevation  of  about  1 500  feet.  It  has  a bril- 
liant crimson  back,  the  throat  crimson,  with  a green 
band  edged  with  another  narrow  band  of  crimson. 

347 


BIRDS  OF  NEW  GUINEA 


The  breast  is  white,  the  beak  blue,  two  big  tail 
feathers  curve  gracefully  outwards,  and  end  in  spatulae 
of  brilliant  green  on  the  upper  side.  There  are  also 
shortish  plumes  on  each  side  ending  in  a band  of 
green. 

At  Ekeikei  and  DinaAva,  but  chiefly  at  Dinawa, 
were  the  playgrounds  of  the  Diphyllodis  magnified. 
These  were  very  remarkable.  The  bird  chooses  a 
fairly  clear  space  among  saplings  ten  or  fifteen  feet 
high.  These  it  clears  of  leaves,  and  also  the  ground 
between,  making  all  beautifully  clean  and  level. 
There  it  dances,  leaping  from  tree  to  tree,  running 
along  the  ground  for  a little,  and  then  taking  to  the 
branches  again.  Every  movement  is  extraordinarily 
rapid.  If  any  leaves  are  thrown  into  the  enclosure 
the  bird  gets  very  angry,  and  flings  them  out  again 
immediately. 

Sam  told  me  that  on  the  Kebea  he  had  observed 
the  play-place  of  the  Parotid  Lawsii,  which  is  even 
more  singular.  The  bird  digs  a hole,  at  least  a foot 
in  diameter,  and  over  it  places  cross-sticks.  Above 
these  again  it  strews  leaves  and  other  vegetable  refuse, 
and  on  the  top  of  that  it  dances.  Its  playtime  is  the 
morning,  but  during  the  day  it  haunts  the  tops  of  the 
highest  trees,  and  is  consequently  very  difficult  to 
come  by. 

I was  fortunate  enough  to  be  able  to  observe  one 
of  the  latest  and  most  wonderful  discoveries  among 
the  birds-of-paradise,  the  Paradisornis  Rudolphi, 
familiarly  known  as  the  blue  bird-of-paradise.  It 
feeds  on  the  larvae  of  beetles  found  in  the  umbrella 
head  of  the  mountain  pandanus.  This  tree  has  adven- 

348 


BIRDS  OF  NEW  GUINEA 


titious  roots  which  spring  clear  of  the  ground  to  a 
height  of  sixty  feet,  and  then  throw  out  flag  leaves  in 
the  shape  of  an  umbrella.  From  the  umbrella  top 
hang  fine  clusters  of  scarlet  fruit.  The  decomposition 
of  the  vegetable  matter  at  the  point  where  the  leaves 
stretch  out  gives  refuge  to  the  pupae  of  beetles  of 
many  diverse  species,  and  these  prove  a great  attrac- 
tion to  the  blue  bird-of-paradise,  who  finds  them 
excellent  eating.  The  bird  is  about  the  size  of  a jay, 
and  is  very  gorgeous.  The  upper  part  of  its  wings 
is  a sky  blue ; the  side  plumes  are  in  gradations  of 
brilliant  greenish  blue  and  ultramarine';  when  the 
plumes  are  spread  there  is  also  a band  of  brown 
feathers.  The  head  resembles  that  of  the  common 
crow,  but  is  smaller.  From  the  upper  part  of  the  tail 
spring  two  elongated  feathers  with  two  light-blue 
spatulse  at  the  tips.  In  the  same  pandanus  tree  lives 
also  the  Astrapia  Stephanie,  remarkable  for  its  long 
tail,  with  two  violet  feathers  and  a white  shaft.  The 
upper  part  of  this  bird’s  breast  is  a most  brilliant 
green,  with  a band  of  copper  below.  In  one  light  it 
appears  shaded  with  violet.  The  back  of  the  head  is 
violet  with  gold  iridescence.  The  whole  length  of  the 
bird  is  2 feet  6 inches. 

Equally  wonderful  is  the  bower-bird,  at  once 
gardener,  architect,  and  artist.  Not  only  does  it  build 
the  most  extraordinary  nest  known  to  naturalists — a 
long,  tunnel-like  bower  framed  like  a delicate  Gothic 
arch,  but  it  actually  lays  out  a garden.  I have  myself 
seen  the  creature’s  marvellous  achievement.  It  has 
definite  colour-sense,  for  it  picks  the  blossoms  of 
orchids,  and  arranges  them  in  alternate  lines  of  mauve 

349 


BIRDS  OF  NEW  GUINEA 


and  white.  The  whole  impulse  is,  of  course,  the 
universal  one  of  love,  for  among  its  rows  of  flowers 
it  dances  to  its  mate.  This  was  probably  the  prettiest 
and  most  fascinating  of  all  the  sights  provided  by 
nature  in  New  Guinea,  that  land  of  surprises. 


35° 


APPENDICES 


APPENDIX  I 


NEW  LEPIDOPTERA  DISCOVERED  DURING 
THE  EXPEDITION 


Species. 

Place. 

Season. 

Dicalleneura  ekeikei,  spec. 

Ekeikei 

March  and  April 

nov. 

Gunda  kebea,  spec.  nov. 
Pseudodreata  strigata, 

Mount  Kebea 

March  to  April 

Dinawa 

spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

Tarsolepis  sommeri  dina- 

wensis,  sub-spec.  nov. 

Pseudogargetta  diversa, 

Dinawa 

May  and  June 

spec.  nov. 

Osica  turneri,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa;  Ekeikei 

August  and  Septem- 

Cascera  bella,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa  and 

ber;  January  and 
February 

Hirsutopalpis  fasciata, 

Mount  Kebea; 
Ekeikei 

Ekeikei;  Dinawa 

January  and  Febru- 

spec.  nov. 

ary;  August 

Omichlis  hampsoni,  spec. 

Dinawa 

May  and  June 

nov. 

Omichlis  dinawa,  spec. 

Dinawa 

September 

nov. 

Omichlis  ochracea,  spec. 

Ekeikei  and 



nov. 

Mount  Kebea 

Omichlis  griseola,  spec. 

Ekeikei 

Januaryand  February 

nov. 

Omichlis  pratti,  spec.  nov. 

Ekeikei 

January  and  February 

Omichlis  rufofasciata, 

Mount  Kebea 

March  or  April 

spec.  nov. 

Stauropus  viridissimus, 

Dinawa ; Ekeikei 

March  and  April 

spec.  nov. 

Stauropus  kebeae,  spec.  nov. 

Mount  Kebea 

March  and  April 

353 


APPENDIX  I 


Species. 

Place. 

Season. 

Stauropus  dubiosus,  spec. 

Mount  Kebea ; 

A series  taken  in 

nov. 

Ekeikei 

March  and  April  ; 
January  to  March 

Stauropus  bella,  spec.  nov. 

Ekeikei 

January  and  February 

Stauropus  dinawa,  spec, 
nov. 

Dinawa 

Stauropus  pratti,  spec, 
nov. 

Ekeikei 

Notodonta  irrorativiridis, 
spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

May  and  June 

Cerura  multipunctata, 

spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

May  and  June 

Thyatira  dinawa 

Dinawa 

September 

Thyatira  ekeikei,  spec, 
nov. 

Ekeikei 

January  and  February 

Parazeuzera  celsena,  spec, 
nov. 

Dinawa 

August 

Parazeuzera  aurea,  spec, 
nov. 

Dinawa 

September 

Scopelodes  dinawa,  spec, 
nov. 

Dinawa 

August 

Scopelodes  nitens,  spec, 
nov. 

Dinawa 

Birthama  dinawa,  spec, 
nov. 

Dinawa 

Contheyla  pratti,  spec, 
nov. 

Dinawa 

August 

Contheyla  ekeikei,  spec, 
nov. 

Ekeikei 

March  and  April 

Contheyla  birthama,  spec, 
nov. 

Ekeikei 

January  and  February 

Dinawa  rufa,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

July  and  September 

Dinawa  nigricans,  spec, 
nov. 

Dinawa 

August  and  Septem- 
ber 

Pygmseomorpha  modesta, 
spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

August 

Pygmseomorpha  brunnea, 
1 spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

August 

Lasiolimacos  pratti,  spec. 

Dinawa;  Ekeikei 

August  and  Septem- 

nov. 

ber ; January  and 
February 

1 Lasiolimacos  kenricki, 

spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

Lasiolimacos  ferruginea, 
spec.  nov. 

Ekeikei 

January  to  February 

Euproctis  rubroradiata, 
spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

August  and  March 

354 


APPENDIX  I 


Species. 

Place. 

Season. 

Euproctis  pratti,  spec. 

Dinawa 

August 

nov. 

Euproctis  irregularis,  spec. 

Dinawa  ; Aroa 

September 

nov. 

Eiver 

Euproctis  albociliata,  spec. 

Ekeikei 

January 

nov. 

Euproctis  novaguinensis, 

Ekeikei  ; Mount 

spec.  nov. 

Kebea 

Euproctis  sublutea,  spec. 

Dinawa  ; Mount 

June  and  July; 

nov. 

Kebea 

March  and  April 

Diversosexus  bicolor,  spec. 

Dinawa 

nov. 

Anthela  ekeikei,  spec. 

Ekeikei 

nov. 

Dasychira  subnigra,  spec. 

Dinawa 

August 

nov. 

Dasychira  subnigropunc- 

Dinawa 

September 

tata,  spec.  nov. 

Dasychira  brunnea,  spec. 

Dinawa 

August 

nov. 

Dasychira  minor,  spec. 

Dinawa 

August 

nov. 

Dasychira  kenricki 

Dinawa 

June  to  August 

Dasychiroides  obsoleta, 

Owen  Stanley 

spec.  nov. 

range 

Dasychiroides  nigrostri- 

Dinawa  and 

gata,  spec.  nov. 

generally  dis- 

| Dasychiroides  pratti,  spec. 

tributed 

Dinawa ; Ekeikei 

July  and  August ; 

nov. 

January  and  Feb- 

! Dasychiroides  bicolora, 

Dinawa ; Mount 

ruary 

spec.  nov. 

Kebea 

Dasychiroides  brunneo- 

Dinawa 

strigata,  spec.  nov. 

Lymantria  ekeikei,  spec. 

Ekeikei 

January  and  February 

nov. 

Lymantria  kebea,  spec. 

Mount  Kebea 

nov. 

Imaus  niveus,  spec.  nov. 

Ekeikei  and 

March  and  April 

Imaus  spodea,  spec.  nov. 

Mount  Kebea 
Dinawa;  Ekeikei 

August ; March  and 

and  Mount 

April 

Imaus  aroa,  spec.  nov. 

Kebea 
Aroa  River 

January 

Nervicompressa  unistri- 

Dinawa 

July  to  September 

gata,  spec.  nov. 

355 


APPENDIX  I 


Species. 

Place. 

Season. 

Nervicompressa  lunulata 

Dinawa 

August 

Nervicompressa  alboma- 

Dinawa 

August 

culata,  spec.  nov. 

Nervicompressa  dubia, 

Dinawa 

September 

spec.  nov. 

Nervicompressa  kebea, 

Kebea 

March  and  April 

spec.  nov. 

Aroa  River 

Nervicompressa  aroa,  spec. 

nov. 

Lasiochra  pulchra,  spec. 

Dinawa 

August  and  Septem- 

nov. 

ber 

Squamosala  nigrostigmata, 

Dinawa 

August 

spec.  nov. 

Taragama  dinawa,  spec. 

Dinawa 

Taken  in  May  and 

nov. 

J une,  and  again  in 
August  and  Sep- 
tember 

Taragama  rubiginea,  spec. 

Dinawa 

August 

nov. 

Taragama  proserpina,  spec. 

Dinawa 

August 

nov. 

Arguda  pratti,  spec.  nov. 

Ekeikei 

January 

Taken  in  May  and 

! Isostigena  bicellata,  spec. 

Dinawa 

nov. 

again  in  August 

Sporostigena  uniformis, 

Dinawa 



spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

Odonestis  centralistrigata, 

August 

spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

Caviria  dinawa,  spec.  nov. 

September 

Porthesia  ekeikei,  spec. 

Ekeikei 

March  to  April 

nov. 

Euproctis  swinlicei,  spec. 

Mount  Kebea 

March  to  April 

nov. 

Euproctis  virginea,  spec. 

Ekeikei 

January  to  April 

nov. 

Euproctis  parallelaria, 

Dinawa 

August  and  Septem- 

1 spec.  nov. 

ber 

| Euproctis  kebea,  spec. 

Mount  Kebea 

March 

nov. 

Euproctis  dinawa,  spec. 

Dinawa 



nov. 

Euproctis  yulei,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

August 

Imaus  pratti,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

August  and  Septem- 

Deilemera  kebea,  spec. 

Mount  Kebea 

March  and  April 

nov. 

Deilemera  dinawa,  spec. 

Dinawa 

August  and  Septem- 

nov. 

ber 

356 


APPENDIX  I 


Species. 

Place. 

Season. 

Deilemera  pratti,  spec. 

Owen  Stanley 

September  and  March 

nov. 

range 

and  April 

Msenas  punctatostrigata, 

Mount  Kebea ; 

August  and  March 

spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

and  April 

Diacrisia  pratti,  spec.  nov. 

Mount  Kebea ; 

March  and  April ; 

Dinawa 

August 

Diacrisia  dinawa,  spec. 

Dinawa 

August 

nov. 

Diacrisia  kebea,  spec.  nov. 

Kebea 

March  and  April 

Celama  fuscibasis,  spec. 

Dinawa 

August 

nov. 

Celama  aroa,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa ; Aroa 

January  and  February 

River 

Acatapaustus  basifusca, 

Dinawa 

September  and  Janu- 

spec.  nov. 

ary 

Acatapaustus  ekeikei, 

Ekeikei 

March 

spec.  nov. 

Scoliacma  hampsoni,  spec. 

Dinawa 

September 

nov. 

Nishada  melanopa,  spec. 

Dinawa 

June  to  July 

nov. 

Acco  bicolora,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

August  and  February 

Pseudilema  dinawa,  spec. 

Dinawa 

August  and  Septem- 

nov. 

ber 

Ilema  ekeikei,  spec.  nov. 

Ekeikei 

January  and  February 

Ilema  dinawa,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

August  and  Septem- 
ber 

Ilema  costistrigata,  spec. 

Ekeikei 

August  and  Septem- 

nov. 

ber 

Ilema  unicolora,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

August 

Ilema  hades,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

Ilema  nivea,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

September 

Chrysseglia  bipunctata, 

Mount  Kebea  ; 

March  and  April  ; 

spec.  nov. 

type,  Dinawa 

August 

GEonistis  bicolora,  spec. 

Dinawa 

May  to  June 

nov. 

Macaduma  bipunctata, 

Dinawa,  type ; 

August 

spec.  nov. 

Ekeikei 

Halone  flavopunctata, 

Dinawa 

August 

spec.  nov. 

Chiona'ma  dinawa,  spec. 

Dinawa 

August 

nov. 

Chiomema  charybdis. 

Dinawa 

September 

spec.  nov. 

Cleolosia  aroa,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

September 

Asura  ochreomaculata, 

Dinawa 

August 

spec.  nov. 

357 


APPENDIX  I 


Species. 

Place. 

Season. 

Asura  flaveola,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

September 

Asura  brunneofasciata, 

Dinawa 

August  and  Septem- 

spec.  nov. 

Asura  unicolora,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

ber 

September 

Asura  sagittaria,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

August 

Asura  rosacea,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

August 

Asura  dinawa,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

August 

Eugoa  tricolora,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

August 

Eugoa  conflua,  spec.  nov. 

Dinawa 

August  and  Septem- 

Amphoraceras  rothschildi 

Dinawa 

ber 

August 

Parabasis  pratti,  spec. 

Dinawa 

August 

nov. 

Collusa  ekeikei,  spec.  nov. 

Ekeikei ; Mount 

January  and  Febru- 

Kebea 

ary ; March  and 
April 

358 


APPENDIX  II 


A NEW  REPTILE  FROM  DINAWA 

Toxicocalamus  Stanleyanus 

Rostral  much  broader  than  deep,  just  visible  from  above ; inter- 
nasals nearly  as  long  as  the  prsefrontals,  which  are  in  contact 
with  the  second  upper  labial  and  with  the  eye ; frontal  small, 
slightly  broader  than  the  supraocular,  once  and  three-fourths  as 
long  as  broad,  as  long  as  its  distance  fi’om  the  end  of  the  snout, 
a little  shorter  than  the  parietals  ; one  postocular  ; temporals,  one 
plus  two ; five  upper  labials,  second  and  third  entering  the  eye ; 
three  lower  labials  in  contact  with  the  anterior  chin-shields,  which 
are  larger  than  the  posterior.  Scales  in  fifteen  rows.  Yentrals, 
261;  anal  entire;  subcaudals,  twenty-five  pairs;  tail  ending  in  a 
compressed,  obtusely  pointed  scute,  which  is  obtusely  keeled  above. 
Blackish-brown  above ; traces  of  a yellowish  nuchal  collar ; upper 
lip  white ; two  outer  rows  of  scales  white,  each  scale  with  a blackish 
central  spot ; ventrals  and  subcaudals  white,  with  a black  spot  on 
each  side,  some  of  the  ventrals  with  an  interrupted  blackish  border. 

Total  length,  610  millimetres;  tail,  40. 


359 


APPENDIX  III 

A NEW  FISH  DISCOVERED  BY  THE  EXPEDITION 

Rhiacichthys  Novce-Guinece 

Depth  of  body  nearly  equal  to  length  of  head,  five  to  six  times  in 
total  length.  Diameter  of  eye  six  or  seven  times  in  length  of  head, 
interorbital  width  three  times ; snout  but  very  slightly  longer  than 
postocular  part  of  head.  Dorsals  VII.,  I.  8-9 ; longest  spine,  f ; 
longest  soft  ray  4 length  of  head.  Anal  I.  8-9';  longest  ray  as 
long  as  head.  Pectoral  about  i|-  length  of  head;  ventral  as  long 
as  head,  or  a little  longer.  Caudal  feebly  emarginate.  Caudal 
peduncle  2 £ as  long  as  deep.  Scales  strongly  ciliated,  37  to  39  in 
a longitudinal  series  on  each  side,  14  or  16  round  caudal  peduncle. 
Dark  olive  above,  whitish  beneath. 

Total  length,  225  millimetres. 


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PART  OF  SOUTH-WESTERN 

NEW  GUINEA 

Showing  Mr  PRATT’S  Routes. 


—indicates  Mr.  Pratts  double  Journey 


Indicates  Mr.  Pratt’s  Journey  Into 
plored  New  Guinea. 


Note.  -In  this  Map  the  course  of  the  St.  Joseph  River 
above  the  Explorer's  Cainp,  is  shown  to  be  in  a more 
Northerly  direction  than  in  previous  Mups,  whioh  from 
Bioto  inland  arc  purely  conjectural.  A.  E.  P. 


English  Miles 


Heights  in  English  Feet 


14*7°  Longitude  East  of  Greenwich 


Seeley  4 Company, Limited 


Stanford’s  Gcogr.  Estaht,  London. 


